


Those Who Fight Monsters

by Arcawolf



Series: Devil in the Mirror [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts, Silent Hill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone Just Really Needs Therapy, F/M, Sequel, Some Seriously Twisted Stuff, creepy stalker vanitas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 22:19:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 54
Words: 175,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcawolf/pseuds/Arcawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been eight months since Silent Hill, and life for Terra, Aqua and Ven is just starting to go back to normal. But when a mysterious couple crash-lands on their world , it becomes apparent that things aren't finished yet. Vanitas is back, stronger than ever, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants. </p>
<p>Sequel to The Shrouded Path</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was rising in the world. Between the golden glow of the light and the savannah grass, the brown lion looked absolutely regal as he made his way through the Pridelands. He was a large, handsome fellow with hard blue eyes, and a full mane that covered the entirety of his neck all the way down to his shoulders. His claws were sheathed, but he walked with a certain manner that suggested he was ready for violence at any moment.

The lion paused, taking a deep sniff before looking back. Two other lions followed him, one around the same age, and the other a mere cub. The cub, by itself, was fairly normal, but the older lion, or lioness to be accurate, was different than any seen on this world before – she was blue. Placed together with the brown lion and the yellow cub, they made an odd trio.

“Where to, Terra?” The cub bounded up to the brown lion, wrenching his head back as to actually look at his face.

Terra grunted. “Doesn’t matter, Ven. We can just walk around for a bit, get into the swing of things. The Master didn’t give us any particular goals.”

Without meaning to, Ven glanced back at the reason why: Aqua. The blue lioness was currently looking around, studying the world with nervous eyes. This was her first foray off their homeworld in almost eight months.

Ven sighed. That was because it had almost been eight months since Silent Hill, and only now did the Master and Terra agree she was ready for this again. Aqua, of course, when told a few months ago that she wasn’t ready, had fervently disagreed - even if it was quite obvious that the Master and Terra were right. She would have followed them off-world if Ven hadn’t stepped in, and even then, she hadn’t been happy with it.

_But it had been best for her,_ he told himself.

Upon seeing her nervousness, Terra immediately fell back, nuzzling her neck just as a real lion would. It was hard to label the exact relationship between the two. Certainly, it seemed to run deeper than any friendship, but at the same time, Ven wouldn’t necessarily say it was romantic. It was somewhere between the two, something that had been warped and transformed by their time in Silent Hill. Like a lot of things.

“Come on,” Terra said to her. “Me and Ven will show you around.”

With a nod, Terra ordered Ven to take the lead, the eldest apprentice preferring to stick by Aqua’s side. Ven did so with gusto, bounding this way and that, dashing back when he got too far away from his decisively slower companions. Aqua followed steadily, though Terra’s path was a bit more indirect. He kept stopping to look behind them, ensuring that nothing was sneaking up on them.

But despite Terra’s inability to relax, they were in a good mood, the Pridelands being the favourite world of both Ven and Terra. Ven liked it because, well, who wouldn’t like to be a lion? Terra liked it because of the respect his mane and strength brought him, and because animals – even temporary ones - were naturally more physically affectionate than people. Terra had developed a real craving for physical contact over the months and appreciated any opportunity to express it.

On the other side of things, they’d also chosen this world for Aqua. Having claws to fall back upon in case Rainfell somehow failed to respond would surely put her at ease.

“That dark land over there,” she was saying, “what is that?”

“The Elephant Graveyard. We’re not going there,” Terra said.

“It’s just a few hyenas,” Ven said. “We can take them, Terra!”

“We’re not going.”

“But –”

Terra’s lip curled back, displaying his fangs, and Ven backed off. Aqua, seeing this, interrupted before Terra actually got angry. “So,” she said, “how do I use my keyblade like this?”

Terra’s snarl immediately disappeared as his mouth closed over the handle of Earthshaker. He couldn’t speak clearly with a giant key in his mouth, so his instructions became nothing more than grunts and muffled growls as he dipped and swung in an elaborate dance. Aqua watched, pretending she could understand him.

“Terra.” Terra paused in order to listen to Ven. “You look like an idiot.”

Earthshaker disappeared. “Hey, I do not! Right, Aqua?”

Aqua, who had been giggling a moment before, took on a deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Well, err, you look perfectly fine, Terra.”

Terra’s eyes narrowed, and his tail lashed playfully. “You’re lying.”

“What, me?” Aqua lifted a paw, beckoning to herself. “Of course not!”

Terra’s chuckle was more like a low rumble. “Yes, you are.”

“I am – Terra!”

With a good-natured growl, Terra pounced. Aqua squawked as he knocked her to the ground, and he pranced around afterwards with nothing less than a smirk. Aqua huffed, the fur on her back rippling as she looked away from Terra, clearly intending to be the mature one in this situation. But of course, Terra couldn’t have that. He sunk into a hunting crouch, and swatted at her ears until she retaliated.

“Terra!” She lashed out at the older apprentice, who skilfully leapt out of range. “Knock it off!”

Terra only ran around her and yanked her tail.

That got her up. With a muffled roar, she lunged, tripping over her own paws and smashing into the ground in front of Ven. For his part, he tried really hard not to laugh. Really hard.

“It’s a bit different than just walking. You’ll get used to it,” Ven told her, poking her nose.

Terra returned, dropping onto his belly in front of her. “Come on, Aqua,” he whined. “Run with us!”

Aqua looked at Ven. “Is getting used to this that hard?”

He shook his head. “Nah, soon it’ll be second nature.”

Terra stood the same time Aqua did, and the eldest apprentice bounced from paw to paw like a puppy. He butted Aqua in her side and then took off, Ven copying him a second after. In their wake, Aqua followed wobbly, staring at the ground as tried to control where she placed her paws. This meant that naturally, Terra and Ven had to take advantage of her distraction and lightly tackle her.

They rolled across the grass, Ven tumbling out of the mix and leaving just the older apprentices. Aqua hissed, on her side as Terra danced around her. He stuck his muzzle right into her face, ducking back when she snapped at him. She found her footing then and chased after him, and Terra laughed as he led her on a merry hunt.

As the other two ran through the savannah, Ven wandered to a nearby waterhole. He lapped up the liquid, his tongue sending circles of ripples across the otherwise still surface. It was only when he had swallowed his last mouthful that the water settled, allowing him to see another lion’s reflection. It was neither of his friends, but a silver lion, one without a mane but still older than himself. The lion was sitting near the water’s edge, hunched forwards like a vulture.

Ven swung around. “Hey,” he said, “I’m Ven. What’s your name?”

The silver lion said nothing, just continued to stare at him with his golden eyes. The lion was close to Ven, a few strides away, but there was enough of a distance that Ven felt the urge to move closer.

“Are you from around here?” Ven asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Again, there was no answer. The lion stood, eyes still on him, stepping forwards.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Ven said.

His ears twitched as he heard Terra happily shouting something to Aqua. With a purr, he turned in that direction, searching for his friends.

It was then, out of the corner of his eye, that he saw the silver lion’s claws unsheathe.

There was no time to run. The lion lunged, canines flashing, claws extended. They slashed through Ven’s flank, splattering the grass with red, and teeth snapped shut just an inch away from his neck. Ven screamed in pain, rolling with the impact, head going underwater before he stopped. He thrashed, kicking up plumes of white spray, calling Wayward Wind to him instinctively. Through the curtain of water that he had created, the other lion emerged, aiming for his jugular.

He brought Wayward Wind down hard, straight on the other lion’s head, and his body created a huge splash as he fell. Ven leapt onto the other’s back and ran for shore.

And the lion came after him. The golden eyes flared, and then a dark flame wreathed the lion’s head, making Ven flinch back. He brought Wayward Wind up again, meeting the lion’s attack, and there was a strange, metallic clang.

The lion rushed past him, and pivoted around on the balls of his paws. Facing Ven, he pawed at the ground like a bull.

Ven backed away, ears flat against his head. _This isn’t possible . . ._

But as Ven stared the other lion straight in the eye, it became impossible to deny.

The silver lion had a keyblade, too.

The lion charged, his sabre-like keyblade flashing through the air in a line of rippling black. Darkness coated the keyblade, making it glow faintly, and leaving a dark streak behind it. Ven dropped his keyblade and dove between the other’s paws, twisting his body and reaching out with his claws. They carved a few fine lines through the other’s belly, and the silver lion roared in response.

The silver lion reared, preparing to bring his full weight down on Ven, but that plan was stopped by a brown blur. Head tucked, fangs bared, Terra slammed into Ven’s attacker, and the two tumbled along the ground.

“Ven!” Aqua ran up to him while he was healing himself. “Are you okay?”

Any answer he had was drowned out by Terra’s roar.

Eyes now yellow and pulsating with his own dark aura, Terra flung himself at the silver lion, not even bothering to summon his keyblade. The silver lion blocked Terra’s first swipe, but Ven saw his entire body quiver from the force. The second one, he blocked too, but it left the keyblade out of position, and Terra’s third swing went over it and straight into the side of his head. The impact literally knocked the keyblade out of the lion’s mouth, and Terra wasted no time. Grabbing the lion’s head in both paws, he lunged forwards and sunk his teeth into the shoulder.

They fell to the ground, Terra spitting and clawing all the while. He pounced upon the other lion, locking his teeth into the spine as his claws turned the chest into a bloody mess. And he didn’t stop, didn’t show any signs that he was even considering it. Aqua sunk back, ears flat against her head as she watched.

Ven shrieked, “Terra, _stop!_ ”

Terra either didn’t hear him or ignored him, and continued to maul his opponent. Desperately, Ven turned to Aqua, who was shivering with fear.

“Aqua, tell him to stop!”

Aqua didn’t acknowledge him, but continued to stare straight ahead at the fight. Her muscles were locked in place, tense, and her fur stood on end. In her eyes, Ven could see the reflection of Terra’s aura, and he understood immediately.

With his own small roar he summoned the light, and the purity temporarily burned away Terra’s darkness. Both he and the silver lion twitched violently, shutting their eyes against the onslaught.

Aqua snapped out of her daze almost the same second the darkness was gone. “Terra, stop it!” she begged, approaching him. “It’s done!”

Her words did what Ven’s could not and growling, Terra opened his mouth and released the other lion. He turned to look at them, the fur on his face matted with blood. His jaws were still open and a few strings of red saliva dripped from his teeth.

Darkness exploded from the other lion, knocking Terra away. Terra scrambled to his feet, snarling, eyes shining with bloodlust, but the silver lion had already fled into a portal, leaving them behind.

Terra stared at the place that the lion had disappeared, breathing heavily. Aqua and Ven glanced at each other, silently asking whom it should be that approached him. They agreed on Ven, seeing as he was the one who was attacked, and he crept up to Terra’s side, taking great care not to actually touch the larger lion.

“Terra . . .” his voice came out as a squeak. His eyes scanned the length of Terra’ body, and his stomach flip-flopped with the urge to be sick. It wasn’t just on Terra’s face that the blood laid, but on his paws, his stomach, splattered across his chest . . . had the other lion really lost that much?

“Terra,” he said again, stronger. Terra said nothing, but his breathing softened a bit.

He said Terra’s name one last time, and then the brown lion acknowledged him. He tipped his head slightly, words leaving him in a low rumble. “Who was that?”

Ven swallowed. _It’s Terra,_ he reminded himself, _he’s safe_. “I don’t know,” he said, smacking his lips, mouth oddly dry. “He just came out of nowhere.”

“That’s not good enough, Ven.” There was a hard note in Terra’s tone, a warning.

“I don’t know who he is.”

He and Aqua waited with baited breath for Terra’s reaction. The tension grew with each moment, until Ven was backpedalling towards Aqua. Terra turned suddenly, making them all jump, but he calmly said, “We’re going home.”

Aqua didn’t argue, but Ven meekly said, “The Master wanted . . .”

“I don’t care what Eraqus wants,” Terra said. “We’re going home.”

“Terra . . .”

“ _Now!_ ”

There was the explosion they had been waiting for. Terra had whipped around, slamming down unsheathed paws in front of Ven, his yellow eyes blazing. Knowing better, Ven kept his mouth shut, as did Aqua.

“Let’s go.” Terra flicked his tail and a dark portal opened, beckoning them home.

But Aqua would have none of it. She didn’t growl or hiss, but whined like a kicked dog, fur puffing up again. Her claws were out, legs trembling with what Ven suspected was an urge to run. Terra glanced at her and then with a frustrated rumble, dismissed the portal.

“Come on,” he said gently, nuzzling Aqua’s neck again. “We’ll fly.”

Terra made them change and take off there in the open, his desire to get them home much stronger than any desire to maintain any secrecy. So, there on the Pridelands, they departed as humans, flying high into the sunlight. For a few brief moments, Ven saw Terra plain: eyes golden, jaw clenched, face glistening with blood. But then the gold armour consumed him, and Terra’s face was hidden behind cold metal.

The journey was one of silence. Ven and Aqua didn’t want to speak to Terra, wary of setting him off again. They could have spoken to each other, but Terra’s presence loomed over them, suffocating them, squeezing them until they could hardly breathe. So they departed silently, travelled silently, and arrived silently. And once they did, Terra herded them into the castle, slamming the door behind them.

The sound brought Master Eraqus running, and he stopped short at the sight of them. “What . . .?”

“Ven was attacked by a stranger for no particular reason,” Terra said. His golden helmet snapped around to face his Master. “And this just happens to be the first day Aqua is back in the field . . .”

The accusation was clear. Ven saw Eraqus stiffen and swallow hard before grating out, “Terra, I would never deliberately place you in harm’s way.”

Terra laughed. “Right.” He stormed past his Master, clipping his shoulder as he walked by.

Eraqus stared after the eldest apprentice, the lines of his face deep from sorrow. He looked very, very old in Ven’s eyes, as if age was finally catching up to him. The old Master then looked to the younger apprentices, neither of whom had defended him.

“I would never deliberately place you in harm’s way,” Eraqus repeated, desperate.

In a small voice, Aqua said, “We know.”

Ven nodded in agreement. They did know – Terra included. It was just hard to handle the concept that their Master wasn’t the epitome of wisdom and knowledge they had thought he was; and in Terra’s case, hard to cope with the knowledge that Eraqus had sent them to Silent Hill.

Aqua sighed. “I’ll check on Terra,” she said quickly, scurrying past her Master. Ven shrugged apologetically, and then left for the comfort of his room.

There was the distant sound of doors closing, and then Eraqus was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner was a miserable affair. Terra wasn’t eating his food so much as he was viciously stabbing it and tearing it apart with his fork. Aqua was next to him, picking away at her meal, her presence likely the only thing keeping Terra from exploding. Meanwhile, Master Eraqus was just staring at his dinner, slouched as he bore the weight of Terra’s hatred. Ven alone ate with his usual gusto, hoping to nudge things back to a more comfortable state. So far, however, it was only making his stomach hurt.

“So,” Aqua said timidly, “where are we going for our next mission?”

Terra stopped ripping apart his food and gave her a hard look. “You’re not coming,” he said.

“Terra . . .”

“No!” His fist slammed on the tabletop. “Your first mission back and we were attacked . . . I refuse to believe it’s a coincidence.”

“But-”

“End of discussion.”

No one said anything for a few minutes, just to let Terra blow off some steam. Master Eraqus then gave it his best attempt. “Terra, Aqua can’t stay here forever.”

Terra didn’t even look at him. “I don’t see why she can’t.”

Ven knew perfectly well that the Master would never convince Terra to change his mind, so he stepped in. “He’s right, Terra. She’s going to have to learn to fight again someday.”

Terra growled, staring at him, betrayal shining in his eyes. That look softened somewhat when Aqua put her hand on his arm.

“Terra, you have to let me go sometime,” she whispered.

Terra’s nails dug into the tabletop, and his eyes flickered between yellow and blue. Clearly, he was caught between two warring desires: that of making Aqua happy and letting things go back to how they once were, and that of protecting her.

“Think about it,” she said.

When Terra didn’t argue and nodded instead, Ven sighed in relief. Crisis adverted.

Things were better after that. Terra didn’t seem quite so angry, and Eraqus had regained enough courage to start eating. Aqua, however, she didn’t seem any happier. Ven suspected that, like him, she agreed with Terra: this was no coincidence.

 “I’m finished,” Terra suddenly announced, standing. “I’m going to train for a bit.”

They said their farewells, and then Terra walked off towards the training grounds. It seemed that things were going better than Ven had dared hoped.

He finished his meal, coaxed Aqua into eating hers, and then helped Eraqus clean up. After that, he went back to his room, settling down with a colourful book until exactly seven o’clock. Then he promptly sat up and went to Aqua’s room.

As he usually was at this time, Terra was already there. He had Aqua in his arms, one hand supporting her head as she curled into him. She gripped his shirt weakly, eyes already closed as she kept up a half-hearted conversation with him. Her pale pyjamas blended into the pallor of the room, lending the faint illusion that she was fading away.

Ven blinked as he stepped inside, eyes momentarily shocked by the brightness. Aqua never turned off the lights in her room now, and their reflection off the white walls was harsh. Once, before Silent Hill, her walls had been a soft blue. Within a week of their return however, Aqua had broken into the castle’s storage room and painted her entire room white. She’d even tried to paint her bed sheets in her frenzy. They tossed the paint-covered covers out, of course, and replaced them with the white blankets she so desperately craved, and done the same for virtually everything in her room. Now, everything was white, save some clothes in her closet. And the renovations didn’t stop there. They had bought some thick curtains for the window, to make sure Aqua couldn’t see outside at night, and she had taken it upon herself to tear off the door to her closet, just to make sure that nothing could hide inside.

Terra was speaking to her softly as he cradled her in his arms. “And then what happened?” he asked.

Aqua murmured something incoherent before speaking a little louder. “I gave you the Wayfinders, and then I said . . .”

Terra cut in, “Who was there?”

“We were,” she said, “and Ven.”

Both Terra and Ven had gone still when that question was asked (it was the story she was most likely to get wrong), but upon hearing her correct answer, they relaxed. As Terra urged Aqua into finishing her story, Ven sat down at her desk and opened her journal, turning to today’s entry. He wasn’t particularly fond of invading her privacy, but it had been Aqua’s idea, suggested after her fake memories started to become too much to handle. Now, Aqua wrote down all her memories in here – at least the things she _thought_ were memories – and left it up to him and Terra to validate them.

He turned his head, exchanged a look with Terra, and gave the eldest apprentice a nod.

“Okay,” Terra said, ruffling Aqua’s hair. “Time to sleep.”

Aqua mumbled something, already half-asleep. She offered no resistance as Terra laid her down on her bed and pulled the covers over her.

“Shh . . .” Terra stroked her cheek with a finger, gazing down on her fondly. Ven had the impression that if he hadn’t been there, Terra would have gone ahead and kissed her on the forehead.

They left the room quietly, Terra first scooping up a teacup that had been by the head of her bed. They dropped it off in the kitchen, and then wandered through the castle, feet eventually taking them outside. With the stars glittering above, they tread a path they knew well, made their way to the Summit.

Terra laid down first, Ven plopping down next to him. Side by side, heads resting on their hands, they watched the stars together, content with their silent company. Ven chanced a glance at Terra. The pale moonlight highlighted the older boy’s strong, noble chin, and the slope of his face. His eyes were blue now, unguarded as he breathed easily.

“Hey Ven, look!” Terra pointed at the sky.

Ven looked up, eyes widening at what he saw. “Wow . . . a shooting star!”

Terra grinned and patted his shoulder. “Make a wish.”

Just like Terra did, Ven closed his eyes, lips working silently. He had no problem thinking of what to wish for, because he wished for the same thing every time: peace, happiness, and that he and his friends would continue to heal.

He opened his eyes again, and he and Terra grinned giddily at each other. “What did you wish for?” Ven demanded.

Terra chuckled. “Sorry Ven, but I’m not allowed to tell.” He stretched elaborately in a disguised attempt to ruffle Ven’s hair.

“Knock it off, Terra!” he said, laughing. Terra smirked but did back off, staring up at the stars again instead.

Slowly, Ven’s smile faded as his happiness fizzled away. This was great – don’t get him wrong. It was just that this was so close to normal, to how it used to be, except for one key detail.

He sighed. “It’s been forever since all three of us watched the stars together.”

Terra said, “It’s night, Ven. There’s no way Aqua would come out here.”

“I know.” He pulled himself into a sitting position, plucking at some grass as he tried to sort out his feelings. “But still, we could have tried easing her into it, just like we had to wean her away from us so we could go on missions. But we can’t even try now! She’s always asleep at this time.”

“People need to sleep, Ven,” Terra said. “You can’t fault her for that.”

“I know, but it’s weird because she used to do everything she could not to sleep. Now, she’s out like a light every night, always at the same time. Seriously Terra, don’t you find it a little odd?”

Something in Terra’s face hardened. “Ven, stop. It’s better this than her trying to keep awake for days at a time. Besides, it probably has to do with the nightmares stopping.”

“Yeah . . .” Ven trailed off, staring into the distance. “It’s weird how that stopped so suddenly, too.”

Terra shrugged.

They discussed no more about the subject, choosing to sky-watch instead. Faintly, Ven wondered if Aqua’s nightmares had stopped because of a wish he made on another star, or a snapped wishbone or whatever else offered the chance of a miracle. It was nice to think about, because he liked the idea that there might have been someone watching out for them, even if it was only to repair the damage done by Silent Hill.

“There are so many worlds . . .” Ven murmured, reflecting on how terrible their luck had to be to come across the one with Silent Hill. But then again, it wasn’t really due to luck because of his connection to Vanitas and all, but what were the chances that he was the one who happened to be Vanitas’s other half?

He shuddered, thinking back to that boy. In his opinion, Vanitas was nothing less than a brute, whose motives and mind remained a mystery, even though Ven had access to quite a few of his memories. Ven didn’t understand a lot of things about Vanitas. What he did understand though, was that Vanitas wanted him dead, wanted to become ‘one’ or whatever he called. And that Vanitas was fixated on possessing Ven’s friends as well.

He closed his eyes, swallowing down the instinctive hate that welled up inside him. It was a poisonous emotion, a heavy one that made him sick to his stomach; it wasn’t natural. But it was there, powerful too, and Ven had a suspicion that it was exactly the same degree of hate that Vanitas felt for him.

_Maybe this was also something he passed onto me . . ._

He cut that chain of thought off there. Oh no. He wasn’t going to do this to himself again. The first couple of months had been horrible enough and . . . it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going through this again.

“The three of us . . . we’ll never be apart, right? Right?” Ven asked, suddenly desperate for comfort.

 Terra gave it to him, rolling over and giving Ven a one-armed hug. “Always,” Terra promised. “Nothing can tear us apart.”

Ven smiled and just beneath the collar of Terra’s shirt, he caught sight of the orange Wayfinder. Both of them carried their Wayfinder on a chain around their neck now, so that they could always feel the symbol of their friendship over their heart. Without thinking, Ven reached inside his shirt and took out his own. Green and orange flashed at each, warm against the flesh of their respective owners.

It was just a shame that one was missing.

Aqua’s Wayfinder had been lost in Silent Hill. She had never told them anything more than Vanitas had destroyed it. It was still a pretty sore subject for her – as many things were – and she absolutely refused to accept any replacements. In fact, Ven would almost say that she was afraidto. But that couldn’t be right; there was no reason for that.

Ven shifted out of Terra’s hug and said, “It’s getting pretty late; I think I’ll go to bed now. Strap me in?”

Terra nodded, sitting up. “Yeah, sure.”

They walked back to the castle, shoulders brushing against each other. Once they were inside, Ven separated from Terra and went about his nightly routine. He changed, brushed his teeth, checked that the leather straps on the bed were firmly in place, and then waited for Terra.

“You good?” Terra asked as he walked in.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Ven lay back on the bed, wriggling around until he was perfectly comfortable. His arms were stretched out to the side; his legs spread about shoulder-width apart. He nodded at Terra, and then the eldest apprentice set to tying him down.

His legs were first. Terra reached underneath the bed, pulled out a thick black band, and tossed it over the bed. Then he pulled out another, and did the same with that. Terra walked around to the other side, and leaning over, fastened the bands securely. The first one passed over Ven’s ankles, locking them in place. The second went over his thighs, just above his knees. They weren’t tied particularly tight and with his thick pants, it felt to him like someone had just placed a heavy weight there. But that was okay; it wasn’t really his legs he was worried about anyways.

Next were his wrists. Each one had a leather loop waiting, which could be loosened and tightened with the help of a buckle. They were padded thankfully, or else Ven would have rubbed off the skin on his arms long ago. Still, as they were every night, the tightness of the loops would be uncomfortable, but it was a fair trade since his wrists were the most important thing to keep secure. Ven kept his face blank as Terra lashed them down, the older boy being careful not to cut off his circulation. Afterwards, Ven tested the restraints, making sure they wouldn’t give no matter how hard he tried.

It hadn’t always been like this, even post-Silent Hill. The restraints had only been added a couple of months after their return. Before, he and Terra had simply slept in the same room, both of them too nervous to be alone. Aqua had joined them afterwards against her wishes (it had been best for her) when they realized she was preventing herself from sleeping. But then, after sleepwalking one too many times, Ven had decided enough was enough. He’d begged Terra to restrain him at night, and after one of his sleepwalking incidents ended with him holding a knife to Terra’s throat, Terra had agreed.

Having finished his duty, Terra stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at him. The eldest apprentice’s face was guarded, only his clenched jaw giving away how much he hated doing this. Yet Terra always did it anyways, if only because Ven asked.

Just like Ven, Terra was a sucker for his friends.

“Alright, sweet dreams, Ven.”

Terra wandered over and ruffled Ven’s hair, before pulling the covers over him. Before he left the room, Terra also drew the blinds and turned off the light. Then he was gone, and there was a creak as he slipped a beam of wood into place, barring Ven’s room shut from the outside.

Ven smiled. Terra was such a good friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

She woke as she usually did: groggy, sluggish. She didn’t know why, but for some reason, once she had gotten into a regular sleeping pattern again, it was always difficult to wake up. Perhaps those early weeks of sleeplessness had done more harm than good.

She scrunched her brow, remembering why she had kept herself from sleeping.

No, they definitely hadn’t done more harm.

She walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains, basking in the sun’s warmth. Once the padlock was undone and the window opened, the breeze tickled her neck. There was a cold edge to the air, just enough to wake her fully, and she embraced it gratefully. Still serene from the sunlight, she wandered over to her desk, where she flipped the pages of her journal to the first blank one.

_No dreams today_ , she wrote, as she had for a while now. It made her positively giddy sometimes to look back and read over all the entries with those words; it made her feel like she had won a victory of sorts.

She stepped out of her room and into the hall, careful not to step on Terra’s sleeping bag. He always slept in the hall now, right between her and Ven’s room, just in case one of them ever needed him. Well, that was his current reason. His original reason had been exclusively for her; her frequent nightmares in the early months of their return had been violent and terrifying, but she hadn’t been comfortable with letting him sleep in her room (no one slept in her room but her. Not anymore). So instead, he had chosen to camp outside her door every night, just to make sure she was never in any distress without him around.

With a small smile, she sat down next to his pillow and combed her fingers through his hair. Terra and Ven . . . she would have never gotten through this without them. If they hadn’t been there, she feared that she would have given in, would have listened to Vanitas and returned to Silent Hill. That had been the worst stage of her recovery: when Vanitas had prowled her dreams. At that time, she had still been trying to separate her false memories from the real ones. Between those fake memories and Dream-Vanitas’s words, she hadn’t known what to believe, if Vanitas was her friend or not. But Terra and Ven had always been there, gently extracting her real memories from the rest.

Terra stirred. His blue eyes opened, smiling up at her. “Hey,” he said.

Her smile widened. “Hey.”

He reached up, lightly grabbing her wrist when she continued to play with his hair. It was an amused smirk that sat on his face, and when he rolled towards her, she knew he had something up his sleeve.

“Come here,” he growled ,proving her right. He looped his arm around her neck and pulled her down, so that she landed upon his chest. With his other hand, he attacked her hair ruthlessly.

“Terra!” she cried. “You’re messing up my hair!”

Terra laughed. “Aqua, your hair’s so short it’ll hardly take you any time to fix it.”

“That’s not the point!”

He chucked good-naturedly, but he did leave her hair alone. That left her on his chest, his arm still around her. It had slid down her body, so that his palm lay between her shoulder blades.  His other hand had migrated to her arm, his thumb stroking the skin there. The touch sent shivers up and down her spine and to her horror, she could feel blood rushing to her face.

She turned her face away, trying to preserve her dignity. “You should probably untie Ven,” she said.

“If you say so.” He caressed her cheek and Aqua held her breath, trying desperately not to make a fool of herself.

“You sure you want to wake him up now?” Terra asked in a low voice.

“Yes, yes!”

Terra smiled. For a few seconds, nothing happened, and then he cleared his throat. Aqua looked down at him, and then hurriedly leapt off him. Terra, for his part, seemed the find the entire thing terribly amusing.

She remained in the hall while Terra went to free Ven. On Ven’s orders, she wasn’t allowed to be in his room when he first woke up, for her own safety. Though Ven had never had the night terrors that she did, _something_ seemed to happen to him at night. He had sleepwalked excessively after their return from Silent Hill and beyond that, sometimes when he was first woken up, he did . . . funny things.

She rubbed her chest, remembering the incident that had made Ven officially ban her from waking him. It had started out normally, with her loosening the restraints that held him down. He had woken up while she was untying his wrists, but that wasn’t unusual. What had been unusual was how he reacted when he was freed. He had attacked her, pulling her onto the bed and covering her mouth so she couldn’t scream; then her heart . . . it had _burned_. Ven had realized what was happening quickly enough, and spluttered apologies before running out of the room. She hadn’t felt any different any that, so Ven must had stopped whatever he had been doing in time. Still, it was a few days before he would look her in the eye again.

Ven’s door opened again. “And Ventus is up!” Terra announced, basking in the cheer of an imaginary crowd.

“Good for him,” she laughed. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? I thought I would . . .”

“Don’t worry about it,” Terra said. He draped an arm over her shoulders and smiled. “I got it covered.”

“That’s okay, Terra. I want to-”

He made a series of tsking noises, effectively cutting her off. “Not necessary. I’m going to make us a wonderful breakfast, you just wait.”

“But I want-”

“And I better get started now!” he said quickly, rushing off towards the kitchen.

Aqua watched him leave, then frowned. As much as she loved Terra, he could be overbearing at times – Ven, too! The boys hardly let her do anything. If the Master asked her to do something, it would be mysteriously done before she could get around to it. If something needed to be picked up from another world, one of them did it, often before she even knew about the problem in the first place (though to be fair, that had probably been due to the fact she’d been restricted to this world). Terra wouldn’t even allow her to make her evening _tea_. He always did it for her and funny enough, that seemed to be the duty he was most possessive over.

Ven walked out of his room, yawning. “Morning, Aqua. Where’s Terra?”

“Making breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Ven perked up. “Wow, I better go help!”

“That’s okay, Ven. I was going to-”

“See you in a bit!” he said, running off towards the kitchen, too.

Aqua sighed. Now with both Ven and Terra in the kitchen, there was no way she would be allowed to help.

“Boys,” she muttered.

* * *

Outside on the training grounds, Terra grunted as he bench-pressed a scarily heavy log. With a whoosh of breath, he lowered it again, letting it hover above his chest before sucking in air and lifting it again. Beads of sweat lined the fringes of his hair, making it shine in the sunlight. Next to him sat Aqua, carefully spotting for her older friend.

With a smile, she cast Aero, giving Terra some welcome cool. The wind whipped his hair to the side, and he blinked, shaking his head and try and make it resettle.

“Here,” she said. She reached over and brushed Terra’s hair to its original position.

“Thanks.”  He let the log drop to the side. “But I’m just about finished anyways. Why don’t you go spar with Ven?”

“You sure? Your arms are looking a little saggy to me,” she teased, pinching his bicep.

“Oh, is that what you think?” He summoned Earthshaker with a flourish, holding it slack. “We could always go a few rounds and check.”

She tapped her chin. “I don’t know. You’re looking awfully tired there, and I want to make sure you have no excuses when I win.”

 “Oh, really?” He swung his keyblade around at her side, light enough that had it actually made contact, it wouldn’t have left a bruise. But Aqua blocked it anyways with Rainfell.

That was the proverbial spark and suddenly they were on their feet, facing off as they studied each other. Terra’s heels were firmly on the ground, as opposed to herself who was standing on the balls of her feet. This wasn’t because he was tired, but he wanted her to make the first move – she could tell all of this at a glance. With a laugh, she indulged him, a Firaga heading her advance.

The shield he cast came quickly, and the Firaga became nothing more than a shower of motes. It was gone by the time Aqua swung and Earthshaker met her keyblade eagerly, a loud clang marking their contact. She pulled back before he could lock them together, knowing that such a situation would almost guarantee his victory, and Terra followed, eyes glimmering.

He cast a Stop spell, trying to keep her in place, but magic was her speciality, not his. She cartwheeled to the side, landing nimbly in a crouch, and with a whisper, froze his feet to the ground. The poor apprentice didn’t notice until it was too late, and fell flat on his face when he attempted to charge.

She patted him on the head. “Nice try.”

“Guys! Hey, guys! Are you training without me?”

That was Ven, and she looked away from Terra to see his distant figure. Ven was racing towards them, arms waving wildly, a bright grin on his face. She raised a hand to wave back –

Only to gasp as Terra suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her down.

He moved swiftly, slamming her firmly, but lightly, onto her back. He loomed over her, golden eyes seeming to glow. He had one hand on her shoulder, and the other was holding his keyblade up, the tip of which was pointed at her head. In a hushed, very serious voice, he said, “I could have killed you, Aqua. _Never_ take your eyes off your opponent.”

She nodded, goosebumps rising on her skin.

But the intense moment was fleeting and with a careless shrug, Terra took his weight off her. Standing, he offered his hand, which she took. She was pulled to her feet, just in time for Ven’s arrival.

“You were totally training without me,” Ven said, pouting. Even his clothes seemed to droop.

“Cheer up,” Terra said, ruffling his hair. “Me and Aqua were just about done sparring anyways.”

“So, now it’s our turn, right?” Ven demanded.

“Who exactly do you mean by our . . . ?”

Ven chose to explain through example. The tiniest of smirks lit up his face, and then his body erupted in an explosion of light. In the moment that they were blinded, she heard Ven screech a war cry, and hastily raised Rainfell in a hopeless attempt to protect herself.

But she wasn’t the target. The light cleared, and she could make out the grappling forms of Ven and Terra. Ven had attached himself to the other apprentice’s back, attempting to secure Terra in a chokehold. Terra was still reeling from the light, more severely affected by it than her.

“Come on, Terra!” Ven cried. “I’m winning.”

With a playful growl, Terra began to rampage like a bull. Ven swung this way and that, like a black and white cape streaming from Terra’s neck. His blue eyes were bright, as were Terra’s, and the gentle tinkling of his laughter mixed with Terra’s baritone chuckle.

Terra said, “Aqua, help!”

Smiling, she moved in to do exactly that. She hooked her arms underneath Ven’s armpits and pulled, tearing him off Terra’s back. Hanging in midair, he flailed like an angry cat.

Terra smirked. “Someone needs to be reminded that he’s the youngest.”

“Ack!” Ven squirmed out of Aqua’s grasp, ducking underneath her arm and heading for the woods. They chased him, naturally, but it was Ven, so he was long gone by the time they reached the trees.

Terra plunged straight in, grinning, and Aqua stopped at the edge of the field. She could hear Terra and Ven’s laughter as they began their impromptu game of cat and mouse. She wanted to join in, she really did . . . but they were in the woods.

She shivered, taking an experimental step forwards. The second her foot was beyond the sunlight, she could feel the temperature dip. Darkness, it was so cold, just as she remembered . . .

With a wince, she stepped back into the light and returned to the training grounds, leaving Terra and Ven to their game. She pretended that she didn’t care that they were having fun without her; pretended that it had been her choice to work alone.

Most of all, she pretended that she didn’t know _why_ the shadows frightened her.

They returned soon enough, apologizing for leaving her. And as she always did, she forgave them without a fuss and told them not to worry. It wasn’t their fault she refused to go in the woods anymore, nor was it their duty to always be watching over her. Per usual, the two ignored her last remark and proudly declared that _was_ their responsibility, and that they were very, very sorry for leaving her.

“It’s okay,” she said again, tone weary. “It’s not like you two are my guardian angels.”

“You sure?” Terra asked. He jerked a thumb at Ven. “This one seems pretty angelic at times.”

Ven smiled brilliantly, raising his arms as he called upon his inner light to give him a crude halo.

Terra nudged him. “Let’s not overdo it.”

“I’m just embracing who I really am,” Ven said casually. “Besides, Aqua thinks it makes me look handsome! Right, Aqua?”

“Yes, Ven,” she said fondly, reaching over and pinching his cheek. Rather than being annoyed, Ven preened at the affection. He stuck his tongue out at Terra.

“That’s it!” Terra said, advancing on the smaller boy. “Now you’re going to pay.”

“Aqua, _help_!”

“Hey, don’t use her as a shield; that’s cowardly!”

But if Ven was a coward, he was an intelligent one and he carefully kept Aqua between him and Terra. Eventually, Terra tired, and then Ven zipped past him, doubling back for a second to ruffle the older boy’s hair for good measure. Then he was off again, cackling madly.

Terra smiled. “He’s getting bolder each day.”

“But that’s a good thing,” Aqua said. “Someday, he’ll be out there on his own.”

Terra gave her a funny look. “What makes you say that?”

“I. . .” She faltered, realizing how Terra might interpret her words. “Never mind.”

“No, seriously.” The lines on his face deepened. “Why would you say that?”

She was on the brink of releasing a storm. Terra _hated_ any connotation that the three of them may not always be together. To him, the idea of separating and starting families of their own was bogus – unless of course, they happened to settle down a few doors away from each other. Then he might be okay with it. Maybe.

“I’m sorry!” she spluttered. “I wasn’t thinking properly.”

If he had been having this conversation with Ven or Eraqus, he wouldn’t have accepted that. But it seemed as if he would for her, and he turned his face away with a grunt.

“Aqua,” he said, “how did we escape Silent Hill?”

Oh. That was why. He thought her earlier remark was based off some confusion with her memories. “Ven’s light,” she answered. “He chased away the fog enough for us to see, and then we flew away.”

“And before that, at the Station of Awakening, what happened there?”

“You fought Vanitas and the Bogeymen,” she said. “And I think it’s safe to say you won.”

Terra smirked. “It is.”

“Terra, I’m _fine_. I remember.”

“Are you sure?” he asked aggressively. “We should test you and make sure you’re right.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” she said with a slight frown. “Stop worrying.”

It was a useless demand, because Terra _always_ worried. The only thing that changed was how much effort he put into hiding it. Not much this time, it seemed, as he kept staring at her.

“Terra - ”

Ven suddenly shrieked. “Guys, _watch out!_ ”

Her chin snapped up, but her eyes caught nothing except Ven staring bug-eyed at them. Terra though, he must have seen something as he dove at her, slamming them both to the ground. Quickly, he crawled on top of her, hunched as he shielded her with his body. He already had a Reflect spell on his lips, but Aqua was still quicker to cast, and the hexagonal shield flickered to life around them.

A few feet over their heads, a blur streaked past them.

The blur – a man on some sort of flying device, she now realized – continued to soar away from them, wavering closer to the ground each second. Eventually, the tip of his ride sunk into the surface, and the man was propelled forwards, strangely angling himself as to land on his back.

No, not to land on his back.

But to make sure the person in his arms was not harmed.

His ride tumbled over the ground, finally imbedding itself in the dirt. Not just a ride, she realized. A keyblade _glider_. The glider automatically shifted back into its regular form, revealing a rather plain keyblade with a bright yellow handle. Not far away, the man was still on the ground, his ragged breaths audible. The person – the girl – he had protected lay still in his arms, her red hair fanning out over his chest. Instant worry welled up in her, and she tried to get to them –

But Terra held her down with a firm hand, his blue eyes alight with suspicion as he stared at the newcomers.

Terra stood, summoning Earthshaker. Steps meaningful and menacing, he approached them, expression betraying no pity. As he grew close, he pointed the keyblade at the man.

No, not a man.

A boy. A _child_.

“Terra,” she hissed, “they’re just kids.”

Terra gave no sign of hearing her. He continued to point his keyblade at the boy, who trembled as he clutched the girl tighter to him.

She heard Ven’s footsteps as he arrived on scene. He skidded to a stop beside her, mouth wide-open, itching to help. But he was nervous about stepping in while Terra was in such an unpredictable state.

Aqua had no such qualms. She spoke his name again, and as Terra sluggishly turned to look at her, she marched right up to him, inserting herself between him and the strangers

That got his attention. He blinked once, as if shaking off a spell, and then slowly lowered his keyblade, though he did not dismiss it.

She turned to the children. The boy cringed, but seemed to know that she, at least, was on his side. His grip on the girl slackened a little, allowing her head to droop a little to the side. Like her entire body, her head was limp, and it almost seemed that her neck was broken. Her closed eyes added to that illusion, but when Aqua looked closely, she saw the girl was breathing.

She looked up into the boy’s teary eyes. His skin was smeared with dirt, his clothes torn and ragged, and the skin around his wrists was raw and bloody.

“Help us,” he begged.

She was about to answer, when she really looked at him. His eyes were blue, and his hair was brown . . .

But his face . . .

It was the _exact same as_ Vanitas.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that Sora, Riku and Kairi are these KH I ages in this.

The second he saw Aqua go rigid, Terra knew something was wrong. He stepped towards her, a question on his lips.

But before he could speak, Aqua _screamed_.

It was a raw sound, filled with animalistic terror, and hearing that made Terra’s emotions bellow in response. He grabbed her, and wrenched her away from the strangers, not gently. With her safely behind him, he backed up, taking her with him. He kept his eyes locked on the strangers, fingers curled around his keyblade for when it was needed.  For his part, the strange boy looked just as scared as Aqua had. He had flinched backwards at the sound of the scream, and had yet to regain his original position. His hands trembled as he held the red-haired girl in his arms.

It was probably a trap, an act of weakness designed to make him lower his guard, but Terra wasn’t fooled. He knew that people who looked like kids could be maniacs in disguise. It was only Aqua’s tight grip on his arm that kept him from killing the boy right there.

“Aqua, what’s wrong?” Ven demanded, rushing up to them.

Finally. Terra passed Aqua off to Ven, and then advanced. The strange boy stared up at him, eyes wide with fear, not daring to move. Towering above him, the sun casting harsh shadows on his face, Terra stared down at the two strangers. The girl, he dismissed as a threat; she was unconscious. But the boy . . . one good look, and he knew exactly what had set Aqua off.

“Vanitas!” he snarled, eyes flaring yellow.

The boy shrunk away, shaking his head rapidly. “No, my name’s not Vanitas!”

But Terra wasn’t buying it. He brought Earthshaker back, preparing for one, great swing . . .

“Terra, stop!”

Ven stepped in front of him, and that was the only reason didn’t kill the stranger. Instead, he forced his arm to freeze, and the teeth of the keyblade stopped an inch from the younger apprentice’s neck.

“Ven, get out of the way,” he said quietly.

Arms held out wide, Ven refused to back down. “He’s not Vanitas, Terra. I can tell!”

Terra stared at Ven for a long five seconds. Then he lowered his keyblade. If anyone would know, it would be Ven.

Ven said to the stranger, “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Sora,” the boy said. “Please . . . Kairi, she needs help!”

Weakly, he lifted the girl a little away from his body, as if trying to hand her over.

As Ven kneeled to better speak with Sora, Terra turned to Aqua. She was hugging herself, eyes glassy.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He turned her so that she faced him fully. “It’s not him.”

Aqua closed her eyes and didn’t respond.

“Terra,” Ven said, “let’s take them inside.”

Terra growled. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes.” Ven glanced at Aqua, who was refusing to look at Sora. With a sigh, he said, “Take them inside. I’ll take care of this.”

Terra nodded. Ven knew Vanitas best, and Aqua knew that. Ven would probably be able to calm her.

“Here, give her to me,” Terra said, beckoning at Kairi. However, Sora did not appear pleased by that suggestion and shook his head, cradling the girl in his arms.

“Fine,” Terra said curtly. “Then walk . . . No, stay in front of me!”

And that’s exactly where Terra kept him: straight in front, where he could see everything the boy did. If Sora tried anything, anything at all . . . Terra would cut him down before he could blink. He gritted his teeth together impatiently, watching as Sora staggered towards the castle. The sun beat down on them, hot and harsh, and sweat – he wasn’t sure whether it was from heat or nerves – left dark stains on his clothes.

At the door, Sora paused, unable to open it while he was holding Kairi. With an annoyed growl, Terra wrenched the door open, looming over Sora as he scurried inside. To his surprise, Eraqus was standing in the foyer, and the Master grew stiff at the sight of Sora and his burden.

“Terra, what is going on?” Eraqus asked.

Terra shrugged. “He wants help.”

“Yes, yes,” Eraqus said hurriedly, rushing over. “Dear Light . . . what happened to her? And you? The both of you look terrible.”

Sora didn’t answer, but shrunk into himself as if trying to hide.

“Come inside,” Eraqus said, putting a hand on Sora’s back. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Terra bit his lip in an effort to stay quiet. Sure, he might be okay with letting Sora inside, but that didn’t mean he wanted the kid tromping through the castle! They had a very delicate balance in here and if Sora went mucking things up, then Terra would toss him off the world himself.

He stood in silence as Eraqus took Sora and Kairi away. The front door opened again about a minute after that, revealing Ven and  Aqua, the sight being enough to temporarily wash away his anger at Sora’s intrusion. He walked up to them and stroked Aqua’s cheek as he stared into her eyes, wanting to verify that she was okay.

“Where did they go?” Ven asked.

“Eraqus is cleaning them up,” Terra said. “He took them that-a-way.”

“Okay, I’ll go help. You don’t mind, right?”

Actually he did. “You should stay away from them.”

Ven sighed. “Okay, I’m going to my room then.”

Ven ran off and Terra’s attention immediately locked on Aqua, who was staring at the ground. Gently, he lifted her chin so that he could see her face.

“You okay?” he asked.

 “I’m fine,” she said. “I just . . . I didn’t expect him to have a face like that.”

 _Yeah, seems awfully coincidental, doesn’t it?_ He swallowed those words down. Aqua was the last person he wanted to discuss any conspiracy theories with; if she thought Vanitas was coming after them again, he wasn’t sure how she’d manage. He would save that discussion for Ven.

“He’s not Vanitas,” Terra said. “I don’t know who he is, but he isn’t Vanitas.”

She looked away. “I know.”

But she didn’t sound like she did; she still sounded frightened, and that made him anxious. He grabbed her hand, and then turned her chin towards him again.

“We’ll protect you. You know that, right?” he said quickly. “If that bastard ever shows his face again, we’ll take care of it.”

He squeezed her without meaning to, eyes flicking between blue and yellow.

“He won’t take eitherof you away from me again.”

* * *

They were all seated in the living room, Terra with his eyes fixed on Sora. True to his word, Eraqus had patched him up. His hair was no longer the dirt-caked, greasy mess it had been, and his pale skin was actually visible. He was wearing some of Ven’s clothes, and underneath the sleeve, Terra could make out bandages wrapped around his wrist. Sora looked at them all uncertainly, quick to avoid Terra’s eye though.

Terra noticed that with a sneer, and he automatically pulled Aqua and Ven closer to him. He was sitting in the middle of them, as he always did, with his shoulders touching them. That way, neither of them could be grabbed without him knowing.

Eraqus alone was standing, poised in the middle of the two groups like a mediator. “Sora,” he said, “if you would care to share with them?”

Sora smacked his lips. “A-are you sure?”

“They need to know,” Eraqus said.

“Hey, you can talk to us,” Ven said. He seemed to be the only one at ease with this situation.

Sora swallowed, closing his eyes. “It began on my island,” he said quietly. “Me, Kairi and Riku, we wanted to see what else was out there, so we built a raft.”

“Wait, so you were going to just leave your home on a raft?” Ven said.

Sora nodded. Ven said nothing, but Terra knew that he thought that was a stupid idea.

“The three of us sailed off. It was a bright night and we knew how to navigate with the stars, so we thought we’d be okay . . . but then we hit a bunch of fog.”

And the memories hit Terra without warning: a mountainous path; a shadow; a green sign that lured them into hell itself . . . He had seen no water when he was in Silent Hill, but he was sure that Sora and his friends had somehow made their way to that place. For the first time since the wretched boy had arrived, Terra relaxed. If Sora, too, was a victim of Silent Hill, then he probably wasn’t a threat to his friends.

“W-we hit land. It was a town, a really cold and snowy town. Riku wanted to explore, so me and Kairi followed him . . .”

Next to Terra, Aqua breathed shakily, already knowing how the story would proceed. Ven had gone extremely pale.

“There were monsters. We ran at first but then . . . then these weird things appeared in our hands.” Holding his hand out, Sora summoned the keyblade he had been flying on earlier. “I don’t know where they came from, but we used them to fight the monsters. I thought we were going to be alright but . . .”

Sora’s gaze became distant as he shivered at some unknown memory. “But we ran into this boy with a mask.”

The second Terra had realized where Sora was going with this, he had snatched up Aqua’s cold hand. Indeed, just as he predicted, Aqua’s breath hitched. He held her hand tight, imagining that he was radiating his body heat into her.

“We fought him, and Riku and K-Kairi, they got away. But I . . .” Sora squeezed his eyes shut. “I wasn’t strong enough. He threw me in a cell and he told me th-that I  . . . that I . . .”

He kept saying those two words, like a skipping record. After the fifth repetition, Eraqus walked over to him. He crouched down, looking the now crying boy in the face. “You’re safe, Sora,” Eraqus said. “You can tell us; you must, for Kairi’s sake.”

Sora choked back a sob, furiously wiping his tears away with his sleeves. Upon seeing just how close the boy was to a breakdown, Terra actually felt a little bad for how he had treated Sora earlier – even if it had been completely justified.

Sora whispered, “He told me I was the _bait_.”

“The bait?” Ven echoed. “For who?”

“Kairi.”

And with that, Sora broke down.

In the time it took for him to recover, no one left the room. They couldn’t; Sora’s story had frozen them. Terra couldn’t help but relate his own tale to Sora’s and once again, it hit him how badly things could have ended for he and his friends.

Eventually, Sora calmed down enough to speak again. “She came for me, and he was waiting for her. They fought and he . . . he st-stabbed her . . . and her heart . . . _he took her heart_!”

The last words had left the boy in a wail of agony, but that didn’t stop him from choking out the rest of the story. “I escaped a few days after – I don’t think he even _cared_ that I was gone – and I found where he was keeping Kairi’s body, and I grabbed her, and I ran . . . I never found Riku. I-I don’t know what happened to him!”

Eraqus shushed the boy as he began to cry. He pulled Sora into a tight hug, rubbing his back; but it seemed that this time, Sora wasn’t coming back to them. He clutched at Eraqus as if the Master was his father, and when it came time to move, Eraqus had to carry him.

“I am taking Sora back to his room,” Eraqus announced.

No one argued.

There was a tap on Terra’s shoulder. He turned his head minutely to see Ven giving him an intense stare. He acknowledged the boy with the barest of odds, and then tried to figure out how to get rid of Aqua.

Her skin was almost white. She probably didn’t realize it, but her nails were actually causing him pain. With a grimace, he pried her hand loose, the shock of which jolted her back to reality.

“H-he . . .” She looked helplessly at him.

“I know,” Terra said. “Hey, you should go to your room, too. Lie down for a bit. You’ll feel better.”

There was a flicker of suspicion in the depths of her eyes. He knew she was taken aback by the fact that he hadn’t offered to accompany her. So, to put her mind at ease, he said, “I’m going to take a look around outside.”

That was very in-character for him, so Aqua accepted that without protest. After dropping a couple more hints, he managed to nudge her into leaving him and Ven alone. The second the door shut and they were sure she wasn’t eavesdropping, Terra blurted, “Ven, what the hell’s going on?”

Ven shook his head. “I don’t know.” He had his hands in his lap, fists tightly clenched. “I don’t know why Vanitas would be interested in those two.”

“There has to be some reason!” Terra growled. “Vanitas doesn’t usually go after people himself, right?”

Ven closed his eyes and his face scrunched up. Terra knew he was reviewing the memories he shared with his other half. “He usually just lets the town and its monsters take care of them,” Ven said. “The only time he took care of something personally was when we were involved.”

“So, why is he showing up to _them_?” Terra demanded. He stood abruptly, arms stiffly at his sides. “Don’t tell me that bastard’s decided that watching the town torture people isn’t enough!”

“I don’t think so,” Ven said. “From what I know of him, he’s not that sadistic – unless it’s me involved.”

Terra snorted. “Yeah. He was a _real_ sweetheart to Aqua.”

“Aqua was a special case,” Ven murmured, staring at the ground. “Even more so than us.”

Terra swallowed hard, biting back the immediate anger that surfaced with that reminder. Anytime he thought of what Vanitas had tried to do to her – _had_ done – to her, the darkness in him rose until he was itching to strangle something. Unfortunately though, Vanitas wasn’t here, so Terra had nothing to vent his rage on.

“Sora looks a lot like Vanitas,” Terra remarked.

Ven shot that down. “We don’t have any siblings. At least, none that he remembers. Did you get a good look at Kairi?”

“No, why?”

“Because she. . .” Ven hesitated, chewing his bottom lip. “She looks similar to Aqua.”

Terra looked at Ven. “You think that’s why he attacked her?”

“I think that might be part of it, but . . .” Ven shook his head, blinking rapidly. “Why would he take her heart? He wouldn’t have done that to Aqua.”

“The guy’s insane,” Terra said simply. “We shouldn’t look for a logical answer.”

“He’s nuts, sure, but I wouldn’t say he’s _insane_. There’s got to be a reason . . .”

Possibilities flooded their minds, all of them horrific. True, Ven knew his other half the best, but Terra had a pretty good idea how Vanitas’s mind worked. This _must_ have had something to do with them.

Could . . . could Vanitas be ready to make a move?

“I don’t want you going off this world without me,” Terra muttered, “you or Aqua.”

Ven laughed humourlessly. “I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.”

“Good. Because you need to stay here. Both of you.”

“I know, Terra.” Ven waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not keen on giving him an opportunity either.”

“Good, because he’s not going to get one.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to let him.”

“Terra?”

“Yeah, Ven?”

“I _know_.”

Terra rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Ven sat up straight, on the verge of standing. “You go talk to Aqua,” he said. “I’m going to see if I can get anything out of Sora.”

Terra nodded, and then the two went their separate ways, united by their duties. Terra went straight to Aqua’s room, opening the door to find her on the bed, knees against her chest, eyes trained on the wall. She hardly stirred when Terra sat down next to her, lost in her own mind.

He made no sudden movements. He touched her, yes, but when he did, it was slow. His fingertips skimmed her shoulders, settling on her back. His hand had been cupped then, but now he started to flatten it, letting his contact with Aqua gradually grow until his palm lay flat against her skin. He needed to make sure he didn’t touch her too quickly, or she could freak.

“You okay?” Terra asked.

“Fine,” she said curtly. “Just . . . thinking.”

“Don’t think too hard,” he said, half as a joke, half seriously. “You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

She made a soft, melodic noise, almost like a whimper, and leaned into him. Her delicate hair tickled his neck and whenever he exhaled, he could see her bangs quiver. It was a protective stance he decided to embrace, looping his arm around her, holding her close. Around them, the white walls seemed to glow, like an army of angels were watching over them.

“Terra?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you . . . never mind.”

He didn’t know what it was she wanted to ask. It could have been silly for all he knew. Still, he was disappointed that she didn’t feel capable of saying whatever she needed to. As if to make up for it, he nestled her head underneath his chin, closing his eyes as the feel of her soft hair rewarded him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’ve been better,” she admitted. “But I can manage. I’m not broken, Terra.”

Terra said nothing, but a host of memories that said otherwise flooded him. Still, he gave no sign of that on the outside as his fingers danced along her skin. “Doesn’t mean I should stop protecting you,” he said. “I protect Ven, too.”

“You do,” she said, “but you still treat us differently.”

He chuckled. “He’s like my little brother, Aqua. I think he’d be weirded out if I always wanted to be this close to him.”

There it was: he had dropped the hint. Now, he had to see whether or not Aqua would hear it. He waited anxiously, his heart leaping and twisting until it was ready to snap.

It was for naught though, as Aqua just laughed and said, “That’s right; brothers are supposed to pick on each other instead.”

His heart wilted. Though he was disappointed, he was relieved, too. But again, he hid his emotions, focusing instead on taking Aqua’s mind off today’s events. It didn’t matter if she didn’t realize what he meant today; there was always tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

They’d moved Sora into the guest room, right next to Ven’s bedroom. With the castle experiencing as few guests as it did, Sora’s room was sparsely furnished. There was a bed, yes, and a desk, but not much beyond that. The bed had one thin sheet on it, and Ven ended up lending Sora a blanket to make sure the boy wouldn’t freeze later.

However, that didn’t seem to be one of Sora’s concerns. Although he took the blanket gratefully, he did not use it. Instead, he draped it over the prone body of his best friend, who had taken over the bed that was supposed to go to him. Sora did not seem to be annoyed though, and dragged a pillow to the ground for his bed. Ven tried to convince him to sleep on a couch in the living room, but Sora refused vehemently; he wanted to be near Kairi.

Ven couldn’t blame him. Who could? Without a word of argument, he scoured the castle for more blankets, bringing them back to Sora. Sora took them with a quiet thanks, and he wound himself into a tight ball, the blankets encircling him like a nest.

Ven stood there. Now or later? When was the proper time to talk? As Sora lay there, breathing gently, eyes drifting shut, he looked peaceful, for the first time ever since he had arrived. Still, Ven needed to know exactly what had happened in Silent Hill. He didn’t want to push Sora back into that weeping kid he had been before, but if he had to . . . then he would.

“Sora,” Ven asked, kneeling next to the other boy, “what did Vanitas want from you guys?”

Sora blinked. “Vanitas?”

“The masked boy.”

Sora’s breath hitched. “I don’t know,” he said miserably. “I don’t think he wanted anything from Riku or me. He just wanted Kairi.”

“But _why_?” Ven pressed.

Sora shook his head. “For her heart, I guess. That’s why he used me to get to her. Vanitas, he . . . he said something about princesses . . .” Sora’s brow creased as he thought it over. “He was talking about Princesses of Heart?”

A Princess of Heart. Ven knew that term, had heard it before. He just didn’t know what it actually meant. With a swift thanks, he ran out of Sora’s room, intending to bring this knowledge to someone who could use it.

That’s why he found himself outside Eraqus’s office, listening to the old Master speak to someone else. Who, Ven wasn’t sure. Nor did he know when this visitor had arrived. But that didn’t really matter, and Ven hammered on the door until Master Eraqus let him in.

“Master, I have important news!” He looked around. “Hey, where’s the person you were talking to?”

“Still here.” Eraqus pointed at a pink crystal. “I was speaking to Master Yen Sid. Is this urgent, Ventus?”

Ven nodded.

“Very well. I will speak to you later, my friend.” Eraqus put the crystal away, then shut the door to his office. He waved at a chair, inviting Ven to take it, and then sat down behind his desk.

“What is it?” Master Eraqus asked.

“I think I know what Vanitas wanted from Kairi.” Without meaning to, Ven paused dramatically. “Sora said that Vanitas was talking about Princesses of Heart, or something.”

Eraqus went stiff. “Princesses of Heart? Are you certain?”

“Yeah,” Ven said warily, not liking the harshness of Eraqus’s tone. For him, it only confirmed that something terrible was going to happen. “What are they?”

“They are people whose hearts are made of pure light.”

Ven’s eyes widened. “So, like me . . .” He weakly beckoned at his chest.

Eraqus held a hand up, cutting him off. “No, nothing like you. These pure hearts were not made by artificial means. They are as natural as I.”

“Oh, okay,” Ven said. “So, why does Vanitas care?”

Eraqus glared. “I have gone over this before in lessons. Were you not listening?”

Ven froze. It probably wasn’t the best idea to admit that he was usually daydreaming during those times . . . “Of course I do! I just don’t remember this very well.”

Eraqus stared suspiciously at him. “Very well. When all seven Princesses of Heart are gathered, their power is said to be enough to summon Kingdom Hearts.”

Kingdom Hearts . . . could . . . could Vanitas be trying to summon that? Ven’s knowledge of the source of all hearts was lacking at best, but even his vague idea was enough. That kind of power in Vanitas’s hands, it was a tragedy waiting to happen, maybe even an apocalypse.

“Allow me to speak to Master Yen Sid,” Eraqus said. “If there is anything going on concerning the Princesses of Heart, he will probably know.”

* * *

Ven walked into the kitchen, finding Terra there. The eldest apprentice was bent over a cup of tea, carefully stirring it. The sweet, apple-like scent told him it was chamomile, which meant it was probably for Aqua. There was another cup out too, presumably for Terra himself, though that depended on what sort of mood he was in.

“Can I have some?” Ven asked.

“Sure,” Terra said, still absorbed in his preparations. “Grab the cup already out.”

He hadn’t any intention of grabbing the cup Terra was working on, honest. His hand just happened to twitch in that direction. Still, Terra didn’t see it that way. In a flash, his huge hand slammed on Ven’s wrist, pinning it. There was a brief second where all the boy could hear was his heartbeat.

“Not that one,” Terra said calmly. “That’s for Aqua.”

“Sorry.” He eased his wrist out from underneath Terra’s weight, ignoring how it throbbed. “So, I talked to Sora . . .”

“And?”

“Let me finish,” Ven said impatiently. “He thinks Vanitas is after the Princesses of Heart. At least, that’s apparently why he wanted Kairi.”

“She’s a princess?” Terra blushed a little. “Sorry, I just didn’t get that vibe. I mean, I didn’t expect a princess to leave her island on a raft.”

Ven rolled his eyes. “Terra, princesses don’t have to spend their entire lives on a throne.”

“I know,” he snapped. “But still.”

Ven just gave him a look. Terra squinted, trying to read his younger friend’s face, before saying, “You’re just trying to make me sound like an idiot, aren’t you?”

“Not trying!” Ven sang.

Laughing, he ducked out of the way when Terra tried to grab him. He hopped onto the counter, arms crossed behind his head, walking backwards as Terra advanced. The second his heel brushed the wall, he was off again, bounding across the floor like a rabbit, making for the hole between Terra’s arm and the ground.

He wasn’t quite fast enough. Terra caught the tail end of his shirt, bringing him to an abrupt stop. With an indignant squawk, Ven fell into the larger boy, who grabbed him in a headlock before attacking his hair.

“Terra, whhhhyyyy?”

Terra smirked. “Serves you right.”

Terra didn’t just release Ven, but stepped firmly out of the way and pushed, causing the smaller boy to fall backwards. Ven flailed until he realized he was free, and then he sat up, clearing his throat and adopting the dignified expression of a cat who had just realized it was being watched.

“Let’s get back on topic,” Terra said, suddenly serious. “Princesses of Heart, why?”

 “Master thinks Vanitas might be trying to summon Kingdom Hearts . . . Yes, I _know_!” he said, cutting off Terra’s exclamation of dismay. “There’s no way he can be allowed to have it. He already thinks he’s a god, as is.”

“At least he’s realized he needs a power upgrade before he can take us on,” Terra said, sounding smug. “What now?”

“Master’s talking with Yen Sid, so I guess we wait to see what the outcome of that is.”

Ven shuffled his feet, not looking Terra in the eye. The thing he needed to ask now . . . Terra could take it either way. Hesitantly, he began. “What do we tell Aqua?”

A muscle in Terra’s jaw jumped. “It’s like you said: wait to see what happens with Eraqus and Yen Sid’s discussion. Maybe you’re wrong; it might have nothing to do with princesses. Either way, why worry her? None of this is going to involve her.”

“She’ll want to help,” Ven warned.

“And we’re going to let her?”

Guiltily, Ven shook his head. Aqua and Vanitas in the same room would be a disaster. First, there was Aqua herself; she was still traumatized by her last encounter with him. Throwing them together might erase all the progress they had made throughout the months. Then, there was Vanitas. Ven was certain that the sight of Aqua would drive him ballistic – not in a raving, crazy way, because Vanitas didn’t do that – but in an intensely aggressive, no-nonsense way. In other words, he would become more dangerous than he already was. Especially to Aqua.

“Glad you understand,” Terra said, letting Ven know that he would have forced Aqua to stay home regardless of what the youngest apprentice had thought. That was Terra: Aqua’s keeper. Nowadays, if anyone wanted something from her, they asked Terra first. And if he said no, well, even Master Eraqus would be hard-pressed to walk over him.

“We’re not going to tell her,” Ven echoed. He felt bad for keeping such a huge secret from her, but Terra was right. Why trouble her when it could turn out to be nothing?

* * *

Early next morning, all three apprentices were called to the Master’s office. Aqua, still drowsy from just, staggered down the hall. Her mouth opened in a huge yawn as she rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up. It was odd for the Master to rouse them this early. Usually, he at least let her sleep in.

Her slow progress meant that Ven and Terra were already in the room by the time she entered. Whatever conversation they had been having died, and Ven gave her a strained smile. Terra just looked frustrated.

“Ah, Aqua, thank you for joining us,” Eraqus said. He was not seated behind his desk, but was standing in front of it, and she knew then that this was very important. Probably had to do with Sora.

But before she could sit down, Terra spoke. “Aqua, you look beat. Why don’t you go make yourself some coffee or something?”

“It’s fine, Terra.”

She tried to sit down, but Terra shifted, taking over the chair she had been eying. “You really should,” he said sternly. There was a hard glint to his eyes that made her uneasy, and she noticed then that Ven was avoiding her gaze.

“Master . . .” Aqua looked to him for help.

That action just seemed to egg Terra on. “Yes, Eraqus, what do you say?”

There was a long moment before Eraqus closed his eyes. “You should leave, Aqua.”

She looked at him with disbelief, then at Ven in hopes that he would say something. But when he did, it was only, “It’s for the best.”

Anger coiled inside her. It wasn’t natural; she didn’t like being mad at her friends, but this was important! A young boy and his friend crash-landing on their world after Vanitas attacked them and stole the girl’s heart. . .this had as much to do with her as it did with anyone else. She was a keyblader, for light’s sake! These were the type of problems she was supposed to be dealing with.

“Terra, this is going too far!” she cried. “I at least have a right to _know_.”

“Drop it,” he said, tone clipped.

Heat made her skin turn red. Whether it was from anger or embarrassment, she couldn’t quite figure it out, but it made her restless and she decided to exert that excess energy on Terra. “Not until you tell me what’s going on!” she said. “It wasn’t just you two in Silent Hill; I was there too and –”

“That’s enough.”

Ven’s words cut through her arguments, neatly severing them from her mind. The two words bounced around her skull, growing stronger with each repeat, burning like a red-hot brand had been pushed into her brain.

Now Ven was looking at her, and he spoke with deliberate detachment. “Terra’s right, Aqua. You need to leave.”

She stared at him for a few moments while his order registered in her mind. Then, slowly, she turned and left the room.

The confrontation had made her head throb, and she rubbed her forehead, wondering if she really should go get a cup of coffee or tea. She hadn’t planned on it, childish spite making her rebellious, but really, some tea would be nice around now . . .

She sighed. She was getting to be as addicted to it as the Master was.

Ten minutes later, she was in the kitchen when Terra walked in. The veins on his arms were bulging, and she could almost see smoke pouring out of his nostrils. The moment he noticed her though, it was all gone. His face took on an impassive appearance, perfectly cool and composed. In a weak bid at pretending everything was okay, he dipped his head at her.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?” she asked waspishly.

“Everything’s fine,” Terra said. “It was a false alarm.”

“False alarm,” she repeated to herself in an undertone. She stood, stomping over to him, and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Terra, I know there’s something going on. I’m not stupid!”

“I know,” he said softly. Slowly, he raised a hand to brush her bangs away from her eyes. “But this really has nothing to do with you.”

He tried to walk past her, but she was not letting him off that easy. She put an arm out, knowing that Terra was too gentle with her to even think about pushing her out of the way. “Tell me what happened, Terra.”

“Aqua . . .”

“ _Please_.”

Much like Ven’s puppy-dog eyes, pleading was her greatest weapon against him. Terra was a mountain, refusing to give way to any threat, whether physical or not. But when it came to her and Ven, he cracked. They were like water, slowly eroding away at his jagged surface until they got through. And the gentler they went about it, the more they played on his emotions and love for them, the easier it was.

She placed a hand on his cheek. “Terra, please.”

He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. “Vanitas has been seen outside of Silent Hill.”

“What?” she blurted, ignoring the ice that threatened to invade her veins. “I thought Silent Hill called those it wanted. If he needs to find victims himself . . .”

“Not quite,” Terra said gravely. “Vanitas is going after very specific people; people who wouldn’t naturally be called to the town.”

“Why . . .?”

He interrupted her. “Aqua, when I say he’s been seen outside Silent Hill, I didn’t just mean other towns. I mean other _worlds_.”

No. No, this couldn’t be. Vanitas wasn’t supposed to leave that place. If he could go from world to world, then _he_ _could be anywhere_. How was she supposed to know which world he was at? What if she was on a mission and he was . . . he was _there_?

She hadn’t noticed that Terra had grabbed her and directed her to a chair. He pushed her into it, not roughly, but not kindly either. “Sit,” he told her, already poised to pounce if she didn’t listen.

“He’s going to different worlds!” she spluttered. “Why? Why would he . . .?” Her heart thumped painfully before stopping. Would he come _here_?

Terra suddenly stepped back, hands in his hair. “Why did I tell you?” he spat. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you!”

“Terra!” She half-stood. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m just shocked.”

“Sure you are.” He caught sight of his face in the sink and twitched as if about to punch it. “Stupid!” he snarled at himself.

“Terra!” she ran up to him and grabbed his arm, afraid he might actually be mad enough to hurt himself. He didn’t usually, but there had been a couple of times that he punched the wall so hard that his knuckles split.

Terra glared at her and she flinched, cowed. Seeing this, he sighed, forcing himself to relax. “Forget I told you anything.”

“Terra . . .”

He suddenly stretched, crossing his arms behind his head afterwards in a manner similar to Ven. He wore a bright smile, much too innocent considering the seriousness of their conversation just before. “So,” he said, “did you end up making yourself anything?”

“No.” She didn’t explain why, knowing the reason was childish.

His smile widened. “Okay, I’ll make you some tea then.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist,” he said. “Think of it as an apology. I wanted some anyways.”

She knew better than to argue with him. Sometimes, Terra seemed to be an even bigger tea freak than her or the Master – even if Terra himself hardly ever drank it.

“Look, let’s talk somewhere private. Your room, maybe?” he suggested. “I’ll bring your tea to you.”

She nodded. Finally, Terra was cooperating!

She did as he asked, and he did as he said he would. He eventually walked into her room, a cup in each hand, and gave one to her. “Bottoms up,” he said, downing his.

She sipped from her own cup. “You shouldn’t drink it so quickly,” she told him. “You’re not used to tea. You’ll burn your throat.”

It seemed that Terra had just discovered that, as he was coughing violently, eyes looking as if they were about to pop out. As terrible as it was, she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Thanks for your concern,” he rasped, rubbing his throat. “Are you going to drink yours?”

“Yes, but _properly_.” She raised the cup to her lips for a demonstration. The intensity with which he watched her caught her off-guard.

He laughed. “You should tutor me.”

“Well, now that you’ve seen it, why don’t you try again?’

He shook his head as she offered him her cup. “I’ve had enough,” he said. “You should drink it.”

She sighed exaggeratedly. “Fine, have it your way. But you said we were going to talk, right?”

“Finish your tea first,” he said evasively.

Well, he was offering to cooperate, so the least she could do was that. She drank the rest of the tea, looking up afterwards to see Terra leaning towards her, attention completely on her.

Her skin crawled. “Terra?”

“You know we love you, right?” he asked. “Me and Ven.”

She nodded slowly. “Of course I do. Terra, is everything okay.”

“Fine,” he said. “Can we just . . . can we just sit for a few minutes.”

“What about talking?”

“After,” he promised. “I just need to get my thoughts organized.”

She was beginning to suspect that he wanted to dodge the conversation. But he was still sitting here with her; as long as he did that, he would have to talk eventually, unless she somehow forgot. And she had absolutely no intentions of forgetting. So she let him sit there silently, leaning her weight on him both for the comfort, and to make sure he didn’t forget she was there. Not that he was likely to. This was Terra she was talking about.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but suddenly Terra stirred.  He grabbed her, pulling her to him, arm curling around her waist.

She looked up at him uncertainly. “Terra?”

“The three of us, we’re never going to be apart, okay? Even if we’re not physically together . . .”

She put a finger against his lips. “We’ll still be together in here, right?” She pointed at her heart. “Terra, I never knew you could be so cheesy.”

He smirked. “That’s me. Old-fashioned.”

“Next thing I know, you’ll be riding around on a horse,” she teased. She rested her head against his shoulder, eyes drifting shut on their own. He made a comfy pillow.

Her cheeks grew hot as Terra combed his fingers through her hair. “Quit it,” she mumbled. “You ruined my hair yesterday, remember?”

“Sorry.” She could practically hear his mischievous grin.

There was silence for a few more minutes. Then Terra spoke again, his voice low and filled with passion. “I meant it. The three of us, we’ll always be together.”

“Uh-huh,” she slurred, snuggling deeper into his side.

“We love you, me and Ven. We’ll always come back. We’d never leave you.”

She forced her eyes open, which tried to shut again even as she sad, “Terra, why are you telling me this?”

 “I want to make sure you understand,” he said. “I don’t want there to be any misconceptions.”

“About what?” she asked. She tried to sit up, but nearly ended up falling over.

Terra quickly steadied her, guiding her back to his shoulder. “Whoa there,” he said. “Don’t fight it. Just relax. Now, what did I just tell you?”

“That you two aren’t going to leave me,” she parroted loyally.

“And?”

“A-and . . .?” She tried to remember, but her mind was sluggish.

“We love you,” he said.

“Yes, that’s right. And I love you guys, too.”

She heard him grunt in agreement, and then his broad arms were around her, cradling her.

She asked, “Terra, why are you telling me this now?”

“I already told you why,” he said.

“But why _now_?”

She tried to sit up, but instead flopped forwards. She could barely dig her hand into Terra’s shirt to support herself, and in the end, only his arm stopped her from tumbling off the bed. The clumsiness, the limpness of her boy frightened her.

She knew then that something was drastically wrong.

“T-Terra!” She made to force herself up, to stand. Her blood rushed through her with a continuous screech of fear as she stumbled towards the bed’s edge. In the corner of her vision, Terra moved, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

He caught her easily, hauling her back and forcing her to lay flat on the bed. He pinned her arms down, emotionless, not giving way no matter how hard she struggled.

“Stop fighting,” he told her. “You’re going to lose anyways.”

“Terra, wh-what’s happening?”

He answered with, “You’ll wake up in a few hours, perfectly fine. We haven’t abandoned you, remember that. We’re coming back.”

Even though a haze was settling over her mind, she was able to put the pieces together. _He drugged me_ , she realized, horrified.

“Why . . .?”

“We’re coming back,” he said. “Just remember that.”

Any further words he said were lost in the jumbled mess of her mind. Though she tried to fight, she lost exactly as he said she would, and bit by bit, the darkness of sleep claimed her.


	6. Chapter 6

Making sure that Aqua was truly asleep, Terra pried her eyes open, then watched as they slid closed again. Alright, so far, so good. He was confident that the drugs would do their job and she would be out for a few hours. The head start he and Ven would have should be enough to dissuade her from following them, but just in case, it fell onto Eraqus to keep her on the world until they returned.

Displeasure made itself known. He didn’t like leaving Eraqus in charge of her. Things were only right when he - or Ven, to a degree - was the one taking care of her. He at least had enough faith to say that Eraqus would do his best to keep Aqua safe, but Eraqus had also screwed up majorly in the past.

Unable to tear himself away, he stayed with her for a few minutes. Her head was in his lap, and he savoured the warmth that radiated from her body. Such light existed in her heart . . . it was almost as strong as Ven’s. A miracle it was too, as he vividly remembered how weak her heart had been upon their return from Silent Hill. There had been points where Terra had been afraid to touch her, in case his darkness tainted what remained of her light. But her light had come back; one day gone, the next day nearly as strong as ever, and he was thankful for that.

“Terra?”

He looked away from Aqua and at Ven, who was lingering in the hallway. “You ready?” Terra asked.

“Just about.” Ven stepped inside. “Aqua’s asleep? At this time?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “We’ll be long gone by the time she wakes.”

“I guess that’s good,” Ven said, “but seriously, she’s sleeping now? It’s not even noon.”

“She’s had a hard couple of days,” Terra said with such kindness and wisdom that he almost fooled himself.

“I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. . .” Ven murmured, half to himself. In a louder voice, he asked, “Did you want to talk to Sora before we left?”

“Yeah. I want to know if Vanitas has anything new up his sleeves.”

He stood, tucking Aqua into her bed, and then he and Ven went to Sora’s room. The door was half-open, but the occupants were firmly inside. Kairi was on the bed, dead to the world. Sora was sitting beside her, the scene eerily similar to the one with Terra and Aqua just moments before.

Sora jumped at their approach. “Hi,” he said nervously, glancing back at Kairi as if afraid she would run away.

“Can we talk?” Ven asked.

“S-sure.” It was an odd tone with which he spoke. At once, Sora seemed to be both delighted and terrified out of his mind.

There was a chair at the desk in the room, so Terra grabbed that and sat down. Ven perched on the foot of the bed, giving Sora a reassuring smile.

“So, you were in Silent Hill,” Terra said. At Sora’s nod, he continued, “Okay, we need to know _exactly_ what you saw and heard there.”

“I already told you guys,” Sora said. “I don’t know much beyond the fact he was talking about Princesses of Heart.”

“But did he mention anywhere?” Terra pressed. “A place, or a person?”

Sora bit his lip, thinking hard. “I think he said something about fairies.”

Well, it was a start. Now, onto the next item on his checklist. “When you were in Silent Hill, what kind of monsters did you see?”

Sora shivered, eyes growing distant. “They didn’t have faces,” he said. “They were white, naked, and their arms . . . they were . . . I don’t know how to describe it. They were glued to their bodies or something.” He clapped his hands onto his shoulders, trying to demonstrate.

“Lying figures,” Ven  whispered.

Sora continued. “And then there were these dark creatures with holes in their chest, and dogs, and these really big monsters that grabbed me . . .” He sucked in a deep breath. “That’s when he caught me. I didn’t see much after that.”

Unconsciously, Sora picked at the bandages on his wrist. Seeing this, Terra couldn’t help but feel somewhat remorseful for his earlier actions, but he didn’t apologize. That would imply that he was wrong, and protecting his friends was never wrong.

“Thanks, Sora.” Terra stood. “Come on, Ven. Let’s get going.”

“Going where?” Sora asked.

Terra scowled. “We’re going to confront an old enemy.” He paused, glancing at the still girl on the bed. Ven was right: she did look a bit like Aqua . . . “We’re going to save your friend, Sora. Don’t you worry.”

Eyes closed, Sora nodded. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Without another word, Terra left. Ven stayed behind, probably to try and comfort the other boy. Really, in Terra’s opinion, seeing as dire this situation could become, Ven was just waiting time. Sora would find comfort once his friend’s heart was restored. No sooner.

Terra sought out Eraqus, who was waiting in the castle’s foyer for him. They nodded at each other, silently acknowledging their respective duties before Terra said, “Sora said Vanitas was talking about fairies. Any ideas?”

“Fairies.” Eraqus stroked his chin. “I aware that the Enchanted Domain has a few, as do the Castle of Dreams, and Neverland. The only one I know for certain to have a Princess of Heart is the Enchanted Domain.”

“Positive?”

“Yes, Princess Aurora,” Eraqus said. “I helped three fairies hide her from a sorceress when she was a baby. When you get to that world, ask for Flora, Fauna and Merryweather.”

“Got it.” Terra half-turned, checking to see if Ven was here yet. An awkward silence settled over them, which Terra broke with, “Keep Aqua here. She needs to stay here.”

“Yes, I am aware of that. I do not intend to tell her where you have gone. But Terra . . .” Eraqus had avoided his eyes, but now he met Terra’s gaze. “She is right, too. You are correct in that permitting an encounter between her and Vanitas is most unwise, but if you continue to coddle her, she will not heal.”

Eraqus . . . he . . . how _dare_ he _?_ He was the one who had sent Aqua to Silent Hill. He had no say in her recovery!

Terra’s teeth ground together, nearly trembling. It was hard, so very, very hard, to stop himself from punching the Master right then and there. Already, his fists were at chest-height, numb and distant as if they were under the control of someone else. And when Eraqus moved, Terra’s red-tinged vision locked onto him, studying each twitch with the single-mindedness of an eagle dive-bombing its prey.

It was a sudden vision of his friends that snapped him out of his rage. They would be so angry if he hurt Eraqus. For some incomprehensible reason, the other two apprentices still looked to Eraqus as their Master. It mystified him, because they all knew that Masters were not only supposed to teach their students, but _protect_ them – and Terra was doing a much better job at that than Eraqus. (Speaking of which, why wasn’t he a Master yet? What kind of exam could possibly compare to what he went through in Silent Hill?)

So, with his friends’ wishes in mind, Terra swallowed his hate and coldly said, “Sometimes, soldiers have to be sent home before they’re ready.”

Eraqus said, “Because they are wounded –”

“And she _isn’t_?”

Eraqus did not argue, recognizing he had boxed himself into a corner. Instead, he said, “Take care of Ventus.”

Conversation died there until Ven showed up, apologizing for taking so long. When it was revealed he had been saying bye to Aqua however, he was quickly forgiven (not that anyone had really been mad at him in the first place).

“Be careful,” Eraqus said, “both of you.”

“Don’t worry,” Ven said brightly. “This time, we’re not trapped in a town under his control. He’s not going to get the best of us.”

“Still, always remain on guard,” Eraqus said, hands on Ven’s shoulders. “Danger can come when you least expect it.”

“Nothing will happen,” Terra said. _I won’t let it_.

As one, he and Ven summoned their armour. Gold and silver stood side-by-side, sunlight gleaming off their bodies as the door to the castle opened. They marched out as one, moving in sync like an army, and from the threshold, Eraqus watched.

“Let’s do this,” Ven said.

They summoned their gliders and took off, becoming nothing more than two streaks against the sky.

* * *

They arrived at their destination some time later: a dark, gloomy world filled with twisted, bare trees and thick clouds. It wasn’t at all the place where Terra would expect to find a Princess of Heart. Terra and Ven looked around warily, feeling that danger could leap out at any moment.

“So, what now?” Ven asked.

Terra said, “We find Princess Aurora.”

There was a road lain out in front of them and with no other real course of action, they followed it. Black trees fenced them in on all sides, their stark branches cutting through the air like bolts of lightning. It seemed to him that they were all razor-sharp and that should he brush against one, it would surely make him bleed.

The blackness extended out to the sky above them, and the ground below them too. The path on which they watched, made of old, worn cobblestone, was being torn apart by an assortment of weeds and vines. They poked out from cracks between the tiles, dislodging them and chipping away at their corners. Terra pushed at one with his foot, noticing then that these plants had thorns. With a grimace, he kicked it aside and continued.

Beyond the road, to the forest floor that the trees stood guard over, the dirt was black. It was like a rainstorm of ash and charcoal had fallen upon this world. Indeed, the world even had a smoky, bitter smell to it. Realizing that, Terra instantly became suspicious. True, fires had that smell, but he also knew something else that did . . .

He snapped a tip off a branch and ground it between his thumb and forefinger. The bark came off, staining his skin. More of the bitter scent made itself known when he held it to his nose, and when he lowered it again, he saw a wisp break away from the bark’s rubble.

“Darkness!” he snarled. “Looks like that creep is here.”

But Ven frowned. “It’s darkness,” he agreed, “but it’s not his. That’s not to say there’s no way he’s involved, but I don’t think we’re dealing with just Vanitas here.”

“So, there’s someone else who can throw an entire place into darkness? Fantastic.”

The wind howled, as if agreeing with him. Terra blinked, suddenly very anxious. This world wasn’t another Silent Hill, was it? One experience like that had been enough!

 _But at least there wouldn’t be a Vanitas Situation again_ , he thought, to some relief.

Just then, as if mocking him, a huge roar echoed over the land.

“Of course,” Terra said.

Their walk sped up to a jog. The path continued to stretch out before them, never ending. One thing was changing however; there were fewer trees as they went along. Well, to be more accurate, there were fewer _whole_ trees. More and more of them were snapped at the trunk, or reduced to a pile of rubble. It didn’t bode well.

“Terra, do you hear something?” Ven asked.

The two turned, finding a small party rushing at them. It was made up of what appeared to be humanoid boars, all wielding spears. Their hooves clopped against the cobblestone and seeing that their prey had spotted them, the boars began to holler with anticipated victory . . .

Terra whipped his arm out. A shockwave of darkness ripped through the air, smashing into the boars and throwing them far away.

Darkness still rising from his hand, Terra smirked and said, “I didn’t hear anything.”

“They don’t seem like Vanitas’s monsters,” Ven said. “Only the ones that looked like humans talked.”

“Thank the gods for some mercy, then,” Terra said, turning back to walk down the cobblestone path again.

There was a sickly green glow on the horizon. It was a welcome contrast to the blackness of the world, but that didn’t mean it was at all comforting. In his core, the magic connecting him to Earthshaker shuddered, warning him.

More hooves clopped against the stone. With a roll of his eyes, Terra summoned the darkness to him and braced himself. Ven just casually crossed his arms behind his head.

But there were no boars that appeared, but a white steed. Donning a saddle and its reins, the only thing this horse was missing was its rider. It thundered towards them, black mane fanning out behind it. Upon seeing the two keybladers, it screeched to a stop, snorting as it faced them.

“Uh, hi?” Terra said.

The horse whinnied. With its head, it beckoned further down the path.

“I think it wants something,” Ven said wisely.

The horse trotted down the path, then returned when it became evident the apprentices weren’t following. Terra and Ven exchanged a look, debating the best course of action.

There was another roar. The horse snorted, half-turned towards the sound, and then nudged Terra with its snout. It worked its way behind him, so that it was forcing the older apprentice towards the sound’s source.

Ven looked at him uncertainly. “Terra?”

Reluctantly, Terra said, “We don’t have any other leads.”

He grabbed the horse’s reins, and hauled himself onto its back. The horse complained, standing stiffly, tensing as it prepared to buck. But Terra merely snapped, “If you want us to follow, you’re giving us a ride.”

That did it. The horse surrendered, head dipped low as it sulked. Terra and Ven locked hands, the former lifting the latter up to sit with him. He set Ven down in front of him, and the younger boy placed his hands on the horse’s neck, fingertips skimming the fur. He was rocking from side to side, shifting his position on the steed.

“This is so cool!” Ven crowed. “Terra, have you ever been on a horse before?”

“Yes,” he said. “It wasn’t a fun time. Don’t ask.”

He put a hand on Ven’s shoulder, steadying him. “Hold on tight. Okay,” he raised the reins, “let’s go!”

The horse broke into a gallop. Teeth clenched, Terra held on, terrified that the jostling would throw him off the horse. He had it better than Ven though; the boy’s light weight and inexperience meant that he was bouncing up and down, with only his hands in constant contact with the horse.

Eventually, Terra got used to it, and he no longer needed to lean forwards so far. He straightened up, scanning the world around them. The green glow had grown, and he could see it flickering and swaying in the distance. What it was exactly, he still couldn’t place. However, the scent of smoke had strengthened too, becoming sharp and piercing.

Above them, a crow circled. Apart from that though, there was nothing living up there, nothing but the puffed-up clouds that blocked the light. It was like a shell of sorts, or a prison.

Then, there was a third roar, and this time, they had a source to attribute it to. There, highlighted against the green horizon, reared a gigantic creature. From this spot, he was only able to tell that it had wings, and a black body. The green light around it flared suddenly, and then it was lost again, hidden by distance.

“What is that?” Ven asked.

Terra said, “Could be one of Vanitas’s pets.”

The green horizon drew closer, and then they reached it. Not a green light, he now saw, but green flames. They licked at wayward trees, chewed at the ends of vines. Like ghosts, their embers drifted aimlessly through the air, settling on this spot or another.

Terra dismounted, walking off the path and into the middle of the burned forest. “What happened here?”

Ven copied him, trotting up to stand at his shoulder. The horse lingered, pawing the ground, clearly unnerved by its surroundings.

Terra clenched his fists. “This looks a lot like . . . like Silent Hill when the sirens went off.”

“It’s just a coincidence,” Ven said quickly. “If this was really like Silent Hill . . . we would know by now.”

“What about those boars?” Terra asked.

Ven shook his head slightly, mouth opening as if in awe. “They’re not made by him.”

Terra nodded, relaxing.

Behind them, the horse reared. Front hooves slamming onto the ground, it suddenly pushed off and ran in the other direction, away from Terra and Ven.

A burst of green fire destroyed the ground the horse had been on a second before.

“Ven!” There was no time to think; relying on instinct, Terra threw the younger boy behind him, Earthshaker appearing in his hand. Above them, pointed straight at them, hurtled the form of some monster – the same one Terra had seen earlier. Now he could see that it wasn’t all black, but that its underbelly was purple and its eyes a vicious red. The beast was _huge_ , easily reaching the size of a darkside heartless. And its teeth, when it opened its mouth, were the length of his forearm.

As it plunged towards them, it was eerily silent. Only when it spat out yet another glob of green flame did they hear anything; in this case, sizzling. He and Ven leapt out of the way, landing in their respective fighting positions. The monster soared over them, landing a fair distance away, leaving splintered trees in its wake.

They faced each other, the keybladers and the monster. Smoke pouring out from between its teeth, the monster roared, two giant wings flaring out on either side. At that moment, Terra recognized it for what it truly was: a dragon.

A stream of liquid flame escaped the dragon, not at him and Ven, but _between_ them. Before his horrified eyes, a wall of flame went up between him and Ven, aggressively separating them.

In his mind, the only thing that registered was, _Ven’s not with me_. Like the steady beat of his heart, it rang throughout his brain, making an electric bolt of fear spur his feet into action. He actually tried to rush _through_ the walls of flame, driven back not by the heat or smoke, but Ven’s cry of, “Watch out!” as the dragon reared. Only then did the dangerous potential of his previous action hit him, and he backed away from the flames, mildly disturbed.

“Ven!” he cried. “Can you hear me?”

The other boy said, “Yeah, I can . . . look out!”

The dragon had taken to the air again, and he could hear its wings as it climbed. It didn’t gain much height, but stayed fairly low, red eyes fixed on him.

More fire came. Terra hesitated, not wanting to move away from the wall and flames and much more importantly, Ven. He hesitated so long in fact that the decision was made for him, and it quickly dawned upon him that he was running out of time . . .

Quickly, Terra raised a shield. The flames broke over the magical barrier, with motes flying in every direction. The intensity of the flames was blinding, and he cringed, covering his eyes.

Before long, the light faded. Panting, drenched with sweat from the heat, Terra cautiously opened his eyes, finding the sky above him clear.

As was the land behind him. And in front.

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to figure out where the dragon had gone. “Aren’t you going to fight me?”

No answer. He looked up, in case the dragon had spiralled into another silent dive. But there was nothing there.

And the hairs on the back of his neck rose when he realized he hadn’t heard Ven either.

“Ven!” He hopped onto his glider, flying up and beyond the wall of flames.

But Ven wasn’t there.

He was alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Caught in the dragon’s claws, Ven cried out as it squeezed. The claws were wrapped around his midsection and chest, pinning his right arm to his torso. With his left arm, he wielded Wayward Wind, but the damage it did, if any at all, was minimal.

They were high above the ground and if the dragon were to let go . . . actually that would be fantastic because then he could always glide or summon his keyblade glider! Certainly, it was a better option than being crushed in this thing’s hand.

He couldn’t see Terra, and had no idea if the older boy was following or even knew he was gone. He wanted to say that at the very least, Terra was hot on his trail. But this was a very big, very fast dragon.

Ven squirmed, and the grip tightened again, making his chest burn as he tried to draw breath. It loosened a second later and he gasped, ribs aching as if someone had been trying to tug them out. Through his clothes, he could feel the sharp edges of the claws, and their cold seeped through his skin and licked at his heart.

Cold . . .

Like the darkness . . .

Stricken with that sudden thought, he closed his eyes and let the light inside him reach out. Carefully, it inched its way up the cold tendrils sapping away his body heat, grazing the dragon’s scales. He sensed it there: darkness, thick and concentrated. This was no true dragon he faced, but some construct of darkness.

And with that knowledge, the urge to fight welled up inside him. He twisted, thrashed, wriggled his right arm free. It throbbed, pulsing as if relishing its freedom. Taking his keyblade in both hands, he called upon the light inside him, which gathered at the tip of Wayward Wind.

He drove the keyblade right into the dragon’s wrist, and sent his light roaring through the shaft.

The dragon _screamed_. Starting at the wound, the scales cracked, with light pouring through the openings. It spread upwards to the shoulder, then all around, until the dragon was engulfed in an orb of white light.

With the sound of shattering glass, the force holding the dragon together snapped. He could still see the skeleton of the wings as it broke apart in a cloud of black and green, streaming towards the ground like a comet. Free now, Ven flipped into a glide, circling as he tried to see if Terra was anywhere nearby. It appeared, however, that he was temporarily on his own. He descended towards the ground, noticing that the dragon had disappeared completely.

But who had created it?

He landed lightly, not even disturbing the ash upon which he landed. The empty woods stretched out before him. He called out for Terra, but only his echo answered.

Then another voice. “Keep your silence, child.”

Ven spun around. A woman stood there, wearing a black robe with purple trim and a horned headdress. In one hand, she clutched the shaft of a thin staff topped with a glowing green ball. She smiled at Ven, almost paternally, though he could sense a sharp undertone to the expression.

“Who are you?” Ven asked.

“I am Maleficent.” Her voice was a particular one, like the slithering of a snake, yet strangely calm and soothing. “Come, follow me to safety. The beast may reappear at any moment.”

Ven walked over to her. “Where is everyone?” he asked.

“Safe,” Maleficent answered. “They are inside the palace, which is where we shall seek shelter too.”

She offered him a delicate hand, but Ven shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “My friend’s still out there.”

“Fool!” Maleficent’s voice rose, so that she was nearly shouting. The wind picked up at that moment, making her robes flare out like wings. “It is too dangerous to wander this wasteland aimlessly.”

“It’s not aimless; I’m looking for my friend . . .” Ven trailed off, muscles tensing with suspicion. Maleficent was saying that it was too dangerous to be out here . . . so why was she? She wasn’t a keyblader like him, he could tell.

That wasn’t to say she was weak though. No, Ven could feel some sort of energy radiating from her, giving him goosebumps. It was like magic, and yet, wasn’t. It was some corrupted form of that power, and creepily reminded him of when Aqua had been possessed by Vanitas.

“Hurry,” Maleficent said. “We do not have much time. The darkness is always waiting.”

Ven took a step forward.

Then one back.

Something didn’t feel right. Why would Maleficent be here alone when a dragon was roaming around? And the dragon, he still had no idea where it was. Or rather, where its source was. He peered closer at Maleficent. Her pale, green skin stood in stark contrast to the hues of her clothes.

Wait a second, _green_ skin? It matched the glowing orb on her staff.

It matched the green fire the dragon had spat at him.

He backpedalled, and Maleficent seemed to grow before him. He saw it now in his mind: black and purple fabric twisting to become scales; that headdress adorning the head of a beast. Even now, when he stared at her shadow, it seemed to take the form of a dragon.

“Who are you?” he spat. Wayward Wind flashed into his hands with a hum. “What do you want with me?”

Maleficent’s eyebrows rose. “Child, whatever makes you think I want anything with you?”

“You’re the dragon!” Ven said, pointing at her. “You attacked me and Terra.”

 A pause. “You are cleverer than I gave you credit for,” Maleficent said easily. “But your power at best is minimal.”

Ven shrugged. “I’ve taken down people _way_ worse than you.”

“Than _me_?” Maleficent laughed, a violent sound that grew higher in pitch with every second. “Me, the Mistress of All Evil!”

Ven wasn’t even fazed. “You’re nothing compared to the things I’ve seen.”

“Your insolence shall be your undoing,” she warned. “A child such as you can never stand up to the powers of hell!”

“Been there, done that,” he said, seeming to infuriate his opponent further.

“ _Suffer_!”

Maleficent pointed her staff, and a vortex of green light swirled towards him. How terrifying. He dashed out of the way, trusting in his speed, almost becoming a blur as he raced around the old sorceress. He tossed his keyblade, but Maleficent – well, she was faster than she looked – swung around and deflected it. With a solid ‘clang’, the keyblade flew up into the air, where it disappeared in a shimmer of light as it returned to its master.

He hadn’t broken pace yet, and easily leapt out of the way of her next attack. Keyblade firmly in his hand, he cast Firaga at Maleficent and though the spell hit its mark, it only seemed to further annoy her. She smacked her staff against the ground, the orb crackling with power, and great, thorn-covered vines crawled out from the shadow of her robes. They whipped across the ground, too slow to grab him, but making it more difficult to navigate.

He jumped back, out of range of the vines. Maleficent smiled cruelly at him, but he wasn’t scared. If anything he felt _alive_. His blood was roaring in his ears, heart pounding in an excited beat. The light inside him made his skin prickle, begging to be let free. It had been so long since he’d had a real fight, not a regulated spar like the ones between him and his friends.

He crooked a finger, letting his keyblade fall limp in a taunt. “You coming?” he demanded.

Maleficent scowled. With a shout, she pointed at him and dark shadows extended from her, reaching out with long, curving claws. And Ven nearly laughed. She was going to try and use _darkness_ to fight him, the embodiment of light? Sure it could definitely work – Vanitas was proof of that - but he suspected that Maleficent had no idea about the purity of the one she was dealing with.

Plus, if she wanted to hurt him like that, she would have to catch him.

His keyblade shone white, and he threw it again, neatly cutting the shadows in half. Wayward Wind continued on its path, making the sorceress cringe, and she barely pulled herself out of the way. Still, it took some of her robe with it.

“Still think I’m weak?” Ven said, thrusting his chest out.

“You are quite strong,” Maleficent said. “Congratulations, you have exceeded my expectations. I suppose I should have guessed however, considering the villain hunting you.”

“The what hunting me?” Ven repeated.

Once again, her lips lifted into a smile. This time however, there was the sense of something being very, very wrong.

“What do you want with me?” Ven asked again.

“With you? Nothing special.” Maleficent examined her hand as she said, “You, child, are simply a bargaining chip. Nothing more.”

He paled. “For whom?”

Her smile sharpened. Subtly, her eyes flickered to a spot just beyond Ven’s shoulder.

His eyes widened.

He dove forwards, rolling across his shoulder and back onto his feet. The second his feet had left that spot, a lightning bolt had slammed down from the heavens. He felt the electricity dissipate through the ground, making his soles tingle. In a fighting crouch, he readied his keyblade, head swinging from side to side in an effort to keep track of not one, but _two_ opponents.  There was Maleficent, cackling loudly, a ring of fire surrounding her. Her headdress cast contorted shadows behind the flames, and the way she moved was similar to the dragon he had been kidnapped by.

But she was the least of his worries, for standing on the other side of him, casually leaning on his keyblade, was the avatar of darkness himself.

He looked exactly as Ven remembered him: covered by a skin-like red and black bodysuit that outlined his muscles, and his face hidden behind a reflective helmet. No one ever would have guessed that Vanitas had been brutally defeated in the past, for the way in which he held himself now spoke of utmost confidence. The red on his suit glistened, as if painted from fresh blood and though the mask shielded his face, Ven knew he was smirking.

“Vanitas,” he hissed. He stepped back, towards Maleficent. From what he had seen of her, she was _nothing_ compared to the might of his other half.

“Ventus.” Vanitas shifted his weight back to his feet and scooped up his keyblade. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Vanitas leaned back, arms crossed behind his head just like . . . just like Ven liked to do.

He shook off the strangeness. “It’s been eight months,” Ven said.

“Wow, only that long? It felt like forever.”

Ven’s mouth fell open. Since when did Vanitas talk like . . . like _him_?

It was a coiled gait Vanitas walked with, like a cat sneaking up on its prey. Ven could almost picture claws sprouting from the other’s knuckles, attached to a body with a poisonous smile and gleaming yellow eyes. They were eyes that would glow in the dark, that lurked in the darkest recesses of his mind and haunted his dreams; Aqua hadn’t been the only one to have nightmares.

Ven knew that without Maleficent around, the odds of him winning were about 50/50. With her, it was probably very low. On the bright side of things, this time, Vanitas didn’t have an entire town to send after him. That’s what he presumed, at least.

But regardless, Ven was no idiot. He had no intentions of standing his ground, especially when he knew Terra was somewhere out there, itching for a fight.

A quick Aero spell turned his already speedy run into a virtual whirlwind. Before either of them could blink, he was half an acre away. Vanitas was first to react, of course, Maleficent following after. Still, Ven had a good lead, and he was faster than both of them. He was fairly confident in himself.

Vanitas shouted, “Stop him!”

The air rippled in front of Ven, and twisted. From the shells the air had created, burst out monsters. They looked weaker than the ones in Silent Hill, lacked that sense of wrongness to them and felt more like heartless, but it was still enough to make him freeze. On each of the monsters, whether it was emblazed on their chests, carved out by their horns or appendages, was the same symbol: a heart with two lines crossing through it, spiking near the top. It was the same symbol that once, so long ago, had marked Aqua’s arm.

The largest monster, a big, hulking creature that resembled an ape, made to grab him. Ven recovered just in time, dodging hastily out of the way. By that time, other monsters were moving. Small purple things with thin bodies were darting towards him, snapping at his legs. He stopped them easily with Wayward Wind, driving his keyblade through their bodies. But that didn’t make him feel better, not when the clock was ticking and death was riding up behind him.

Another Aero spell. He propelled himself high above the monsters, landing on his keyblade glider, upon which ravens – bearing the same emblem as the other monsters – came to harass him. Arms shielding his head, he urged his glider forwards, casting a fearful glance behind him.

Oh no. OH no.

What he saw was not simply Vanitas following on his own glider, or Maleficent flying after him like a bat. No, what he saw was Vanitas _riding on the head of a dragon_.

The dragon belched fire, and Ven tucked into a roll, feeling the heat on his side. He could hear the dragon’s leathery wings flapping, and only hoped Terra could as well. Seriously, where was he? This was a fabulous time for him to come to the rescue!

As always, Ven had his speed. But the dragon was large, its wings even more so, and was gobbling up the distance between them. Now, if Ven wanted to survive, he would have to rely on his agility. Easier said than done, especially since Vanitas’s pet ravens wouldn’t leave him alone.

He flared white, driving back the birds for a few relived seconds. Vanitas and the dragon-formed Maleficent continued to draw closer, plunging after him when Ven pulled into a dive. He darted along the forest floor, hoping the trees would offer some shelter. But the sound of snapping wood told him that at most, the trees were just a sting to the dragon’s body.

Well, this wasn’t working. Now, he could feel wind buffeting his back every time the dragon’s wings beat. Grabbing the tip of his glider, crouching low to it, he brought it up and around, spiralling past the dragon’s snapping jaws. He wheeled upwards from there, glancing sideways in time to see his face reflected in Vanitas’s mask . . .

And to face the sparking tip of the other’s keyblade.

The shot-lock knocked Ven cleanly off his glider, and so great was the sense of disorientation that he didn’t think to call his glider back until it was almost too late. A second away from crashing into the ground, he summoned his armour, tried to slow down his descent, and prayed.

With a horrible screech, he slammed right into the dirt. He skidded forwards a few metres, armour creating sparks whenever it brushed against stone. Dented and scratched, the armour dismissed itself as Ven started to move. Head throbbing, the boy could only try to weakly raise himself to his hands and knees before collapsing.

A portal opened, and then Vanitas stepped out in front of him.

Fear shot through him. Again, he tried to stand, but Vanitas merely stepped on his neck, pinning him. His dark keyblade hung limply at his side, just an inch away from Ven’s nose. His dark laugh made Ven’s heart thump painfully, as if his darker half had started to torture him right there.

“This seems familiar,” Vanitas chuckled.

Ven said nothing and did nothing, saving his strength.

Vanitas grabbed his hair and pulled, making Ven gasp in pain. “Did you really think you could defeat me a second time?” he asked, tone devoid of emotion, having returned to his regular way of speaking. “I play for keeps.”

He slammed Ven’s head into the ground, making his eyes water.

“I think I’ll leave you like this,” Vanitas said, “face-down in the dirt while I cut you up. It’s exactly what you deserve.” He clicked his tongue, moving his keyblade so that its tip traced the edge of Ven’s spine. “It doesn’t even compare to the years of torture you put me through, but it’s a start.”

He couldn’t help but whimper as the keyblade drew blood. Vanitas, hearing this, drove it in even deeper, and Ven had to bite his sleeve to keep from crying out.

“Now that we have caught him, I believe it is your turn to assist me.” Ven couldn’t see her, but he knew that was Maleficent.

“Not so fast,” Vanitas said. “You said you’d let your pet look around.”

“And I have,” Maleficent said. “Diablo tells me that the other keyblader is on his way.”

There was a pause before Vanitas carefully said. “Just _one_ other keyblader.”

“That is all he has seen.”

“Terra,” Vanitas muttered. In a louder voice, he said, “So, you guys left Aqua at home. That’s fine. Makes it easier for me to find her.”

Ven thrashed suddenly, the violence of it nearly throwing Vanitas off. “Stay away from her!”

“Why should I?” Vanitas flipped him over, and his hands closed around his throat and squeezed.  “She’s _my_ friend. Mine! And she’s . . .”

His grip slackened, allowing Ven to breathe. His neck ached, and he desperately wanted to massage it, but he was afraid the sudden movement would attract Vanitas’s attention.

“ . . . She’s sleeping,” Vanitas whispered. “I . . . I can feel it!”

It was a complete change in tone. Gone was the sadistic warrior from before. Now, Vanitas sounded absolutely giddy, like a child who had just seen the presents awaiting him on Christmas. The hands fell away from Ven’s neck completely as Vanitas turned to face Maleficent.

“My connection to her,” Vanitas said, “I can _feel_ it. I haven’t been able to since . . . since Terra and him . . .”

“Excellent,” Maleficent said, “now, your end of the bargain . . .?”

But Vanitas wasn’t listening. “I don’t know how long she’ll be asleep,” he muttered. He opened up a portal. “Looks like it’s off to the dungeons for you, Ventus.”

“Our deal, Vanitas!” Maleficent shouted.

“Stop worrying, I’ll do it later,” Vanitas said. “I have something else I need to do first.”

“No!” The crack of her staff against stone was like a whip. “You are not leaving until the matter of our deal is attended to.”

“Then throw him in your dungeon,” Vanitas said, “and I’ll fulfill my end when I come back for him.”

Maleficent nodded. “Acceptable.”

Ven stirred, seeing that attention was off him. Closing his eyes, he gathered the light inside him –

And when Maleficent’s spidery fingers reached for him, he let it loose.

The sorceress screeched, a terrible sound like a cross between a raven’s shriek and a dragon’s roar. But Vanitas, he just stood there, staring down at his captive. The light hadn’t even made him flinch.

Ven stuttered, “How . . .?”

Vanitas cocked his head to one side. Then, with an insane laugh, he brought the pommel of his keyblade down on Ven’s head.


	8. Chapter 8

It was afternoon when the drugs released her. The moment she felt the prickling of consciousness, she forced her eyes open, wincing as the world swayed in front of her. Her limbs were heavy, defying her efforts to lift them. She was awake, but her body was still sleeping.

Her head lolled to one side, facing the door. It was shut, trapping her inside. Not for long though. Once she was able to move, she was going to hunt Terra down and demand to know why he had done this to her.

Why had he?

_“We haven’t abandoned you, remember that. We’re coming back.”_

Instead of blood, her heart pumped fear through her veins, and that gave her the strength she needed to overcome the drugs. She stumbled – nay, flopped – towards her door, tearing it open. The hallway was empty, as if warning her.

“Terra!” Her voice escaped her, dry and scratchy. It felt like someone had stuffed cotton down her throat. “Ven!”

An ominous silence met her.

She whipped around, keyblade out, as a hand slapped down on her shoulder.

Master Eraqus jumped. “Aqua, it’s me.”

“M-Master!” She focused on steadying her breathing, letting her panic slowly drain away. “Where’s Terra and Ven?”

The Master’s brow creased. His hesitation was suddenly a tangible thing, harsh and biting. “Aqua . . .”

She could hear the answer in that one word, but refused to believe it. Like a frightened animal, she backed away, shaking her head frantically. “No, they can’t be. They wouldn’t.”

“Aqua . . .” Eraqus put his hand on her shoulder again, not just for comfort, but to stop her from running. “They will be fine. Just calm down.”

She sniffled, fighting back tears. They had _left_ her. Terra and Ven, they always told her when they were going, why they were going and where. But this time, they’d told her nothing.

But she knew they were chasing down Vanitas.

“I have to go after them!” she cried. “He’ll kill them!”

She tried to run for the front doors, but Eraqus barred her path. With a soft but unyielding grip, he forced her back, and her shoulder clipped the wall.

“Aqua, breathe,” he ordered.

She did as he requested, eyes closing as some semblance of calm washed over her. She only became aware now that sweat was running down her back, and that her nails were digging into her palm.

“Aqua . . .” The Master had both hands on her shoulders now. “Listen to me. Terra and Ventus are intelligent boys. They know what they are doing.”

“We barely escaped last time,” she whispered.

Eraqus sighed. Wordlessly, he pulled her closer, and Aqua wrapped her arms around him. Quietly, she said into his shoulder, “What if they don’t come back?”

She felt him stiffen. “They will,” he said. “We have to believe they will.”

He pulled away, patting her back. “Why don’t we have some tea? I’m sure that will make you feel better.”

“No tea,” she said.

Eraqus nodded.

* * *

The past was the past and nothing else, this she knew. Thus, intellectually she knew that lingering on Terra and Ven’s departure was fruitless. That didn’t stop her from doing it. She was haunted by visions of them flying off into space, straight into the jaws of Vanitas’s trap. She had no doubt that his scheme, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, involved them in some way. He was too stubborn for it to be otherwise.

These visions were part of the reason she was sitting with Sora and Kairi now. She needed this distraction, this reminder that her friends weren’t the only ones suffering. Sora and Kairi might even be worse off than them; at least they had escaped with their hearts intact. Of course, why Vanitas was after Kairi’s heart was a curious question. Terra had said he was targeting people who Silent Hill couldn’t normally attack, but what did that mean?

“Princesses of Heart,” Sora said when she asked. “Apparently, that’s what he’s after.”

She knew that term, though the ‘why’ still remained. Did the existence of pure-hearted maidens irk Vanitas so much that he wanted to destroy them? She thought it was probably more than that.

“Tell me about you and Kairi,” Aqua said.

Sora, cuddling with his blanket on the floor, did so gladly. “She and her grandmother moved in when I was seven,” he said. “My mom sent me over to say hi, and Riku tagged along.” He carefully avoided her eyes now. “I really liked her, and the three of us became friends.

“We used to play on this small island just off the mainland. It was like a secret hideout for all the kids. There were beaches, a waterfall, and a secret cave.” He grinned. “I think we were the only ones who ever discovered that . . .” He trailed off, expression wistful.

“You three must have been really close,” she said, her feeling of kinship with him increasing. If she had been in Sora’s position . . .

“We were!” Sora said brightly. “They used to sleep over at my house every other night. We would go to all the festivals together, and we taught Kairi how to surf together, and we built the raft together . . .”

His face immediately dropped. He looked like nothing short of a puppy that had been kicked around and left on the road to suffer. He offered no resistance as Aqua hugged him, as much to support him as herself.

“They’ll save her,” Aqua promised. “You’ll see.”

“Yeah . . .” Sora guiltily looked out the window. “I should be there, shouldn’t I? Helping them. I mean she’s my best friend . . .”

“I should be there, too,” Aqua said. “I’m more deeply involved in this than you are.”

Sora peered up at her. “Who _is_ Vanitas?” he asked.

At the sound of his name, she shuddered. She’d almost been able to forget how similar he and Sora appeared. “He’s the master – the god – of Silent Hill. His hand is involved in everything that happens there.”

The walls seemed to be closing in on her, and she shut her eyes. “Me and Terra, we were lured there after Ven went missing, and . . . terrible things happened.” Internally, she groped for her keyblade, needing to confirm that connection was still there. “He nearly killed Ven, and he broke into my mind.”

Sora’s eyes widened. “Broke into your mind?”

“He possessed me,” she clarified. “He attacked me when I was nearly dead and . . . I still don’t know who he really is. Terra and Ven, they said he hacked into our hearts’ connection, and that he’s obsessed with the three of us, but they won’t tell me anything beyond that.” She frowned. “They won’t tell me anything.”

“Do you really want to know?” Sora asked.

“Yes!” She nearly stood up. “If I don’t know what’s going on, how can I help them against him?”

Sora nodded in understanding. But he still said, “They’re just trying to protect you.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “That’s why I can’t get mad at them. I just wish they would have a little more faith in me.”

“I think I get it,” Sora said. “If Kairi woke up, I’d tell her because she’d want to know.”

She smiled at him. “Exactly.”

”Okay, so what are you going to do? They probably have some kind of journal they wrote stuff down in. Kairi has one . . . and I might, too,” he mumbled afterwards.

“Tried that,” she said. “They started writing in code.”

It was then, when she said that out loud, that she realized how badly they were trying to keep her in the dark. Did they really think she was that fragile? _Was_ she that fragile? For the first time, she started to doubt herself. Maybe it really was better if she didn’t know.

“What about your Master?” Sora said.

She blinked. That was true. Master might have something written down in one of his reports. Problem was that she doubted he would willingly show her those reports, especially the more recent. . .

Wait, could she use those to find out where Terra and Ven went?

“I’ll have to think about it,” she said. “I don’t want to go behind his back like that.”

However, her mouth was saying one thing while her mind was thinking something completely different. _You could help them_ , it urged. _At the least, you could relieve your own worries_.

Sora hopped on to the bed next to her, and played with a loose strand of Kairi’s hair. “I think you two would like each other,” he remarked. “She’s really nice.”

“Well,” Aqua said in a chipper tone, “I guess we’ll just have to find out later . . . She’ll wake up, Sora. We’ll make sure she does.”

* * *

Despite the optimism of her conversation with Sora, the rest of the day passed miserably. Most of it she spent outdoors, giving her Master the excuse of ‘training’. But if was training in anything, it was training in sky watching. She would go through one move or another, technique sloppy, and then stop to stare at the clouds, hoping to see the dark shadows of her friends. Her breaks became more and more frequent, longer and longer, until she just decided to quit training completely. She sprawled out on her back, watching the clouds roll by. Always, some part of her expected Terra and Ven to pop out of nowhere.

She was there until dinner. Then, after eating at a mostly lifeless table, she retreated back to her room. She would have gone back outside to wait for them, but it was getting dark out, and now that she knew Vanitas could hop worlds . . .

So, she hung out in her room instead, her chair next to the window. She sat there, pushing back the thick curtains to reveal the outdoors. It was only dusk, with the sun dipping below the horizon, and the long shadows of trees fading into night. Still, the world was dimmer than she had ever seen for a long time, and the darkness seemed to press itself against the glass.

She laid her forehead flat against the smooth plane. “There’s a barrier,” she whispered to herself. “The darkness can’t touch me.”

Still, it seemed to be lurking just on the other side, searching for a crack.

She looked away from the window, and studied the white walls of her room. Clenching her jaw, she steeled herself, and then looked outside again. In that second she had looked away, it seemed to have gotten even darker out.

There was a knock on her door. “Aqua,” the Master said, “you should get some sleep.”

Dully, she said, “I had enough this morning.”

She heard his hand drag down the door. “Aqua, they will not return tonight. Please, do not destroy yourself by worrying about them.”

“I’m not tired, Master. I’ll go to bed later.”

His heavy steps lead away. Aqua turned back to the window, shifting as her legs started to grow numb.

Night’s curtain spread across the land. The soft chirps of insects floated on a breeze, seeming to caress the grass that swayed gently from its touch. The moon’s half-circle was prominent against the black, as if setting an example for the hundreds of stars that crowded around it. Somewhere, hooted an owl. It was a low, mournful sound, as if it too missed the two boys that had left this world.

Aqua slowly drew back from the window and let the curtains fall over it. She couldn’t do this.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to sleep and before long, curiosity drove her to the glass again. She poked the curtain, childishly afraid something was hiding behind it. Then, she slipped her hand between the sheets of white fabric, and touched the cool glass beyond. So far, so good. She forced herself to look at the outside world again, counting slowly to ten, upon which her nerve deserted her. But that had been ten seconds. It was a start.

She peeked out the window five more times, growing bolder with each attempt. Then, sleep tugged at her eyelids and feeling pleased with herself, she tucked herself into bed.

And for the first time in months, she dreamed.

* * *

It was a cold, wintery town she found herself in. Above, it was completely white, any semblance of sky masked by mist. On either side of her, rigid buildings, visible only as shadows through the mist, towered above her. Wind whipped snow across the road, howling as it fought an imaginary foe. One swirl circled her, like a curious dog investigating a stranger, before tumbling off into the distance.

She knew this town. Knew it well.

It was Silent Hill.

At first, she was too stunned to speak. Sure, she had had nightmares about this place before – they all had –but hers had stopped long ago. Perhaps, in confronting the monster that was darkness, she had reawakened this one. It was a sobering thought, to think that she couldn’t handle any of her inner demons without reviving the worst of them.

The road was hard, even though her soles, and they clopped noisily as she walked.  _Just a dream_ , she reminded herself. _Just a dream_.

Still, she flinched violently at the sound of cracking snow. Her arm shot out, but no keyblade came. In her dreams, Rainfell never answered her pleads.

“Just a dream,” she mumbled. “Just a dream.”

This time, it was undeniably footsteps she heard.

Her scream caught in her throat, thick and sticky. She backpedalled frantically, shaking as she tried to take on a defensive posture. “Wh-who’s there?” she demanded. “Stay back!”

The steps only grew louder.

“I’m warning you!” she shouted. Her heart was bashing against her ribs in an effort to escape. “I don’t want to hurt you. Stay back!”

The steps stopped and for a moment, she actually thought that their source had listened. But then they returned, booming though the air. And in the distance, a shadow formed; short and powerful, with a domed, smooth head – a helmet.

She spoke no more threats, nor did she follow through on her threat to attack. The instant she realized just who that shadow belonged to, her body spurred into action. Her mind was wiped blank, possessing nothing but the instinct to flee. Her legs moved without prompting, feet pounding against the road. She knew nothing but the need to get away.

How long did she run, she couldn’t say. It could have as easily been hours as it could have been minutes. Eventually though, even raw panic gave way to reason. It was not calm that settled over her, but more detachment. Shock, maybe. She continued to run, just because she was afraid that if she stopped she would be too tired to move again. Snow continued to fall around her, filling the footprints she had left.

She looked around, and gave a start when she recognized the shadows in the mist. They were the same ones that had been here when she had first entered this nightmare. If she was running, she was running in place.

She swallowed hard. The town – Vanitas – didn’t want her to leave. That was certain.

With that knowledge, she forced herself to stop running. Sweat running down her temples, she panted, leaning over at the waist. Part of her grimly analyzed her reaction to Vanitas’s presence and for the first time, she was actually grateful that Terra and Ven had left her behind so rudely. She still believed that she was stronger than they (or in other words, Terra) believed, but they were definitely right: she was not at all ready to face Vanitas.

A thought hit her: if she had been running in place . . .

She took a few minutes to collect herself, preparing for what she expected to lay behind her. Then, ever so slowly, she turned.

And just as she suspected, Vanitas was there.

He was closer than he had been before; the red of his bodysuit was visible. Upon seeing that he had her attention, the distance between them shrunk even further. She clamped down on her body, forcing it to stay in place. Vanitas stopped a few metres away, enough so that a normal person wouldn’t feel crowded (however, this was her and Vanitas, so she most definitely did feel crowded! She would have felt crowded if he was on the other side of the world), but close enough so that if she tried to run again, he could probably catch her.

The wind whipped snow into her face.

“Aqua.” He said her name carefully, slowly, as if it were a treasure he was rolling around his tongue.

She did not answer him.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to see you.” So much for personal space. Vanitas was taking the opportunity to get even closer now. “Ventus and Terra . . . they’ve caused a lot of trouble for me. For us.”

 _There is no us_ , she wanted to spit, but fright held her back. She didn’t know what he was capable of when he was angry.

“I thought you would have joined them on their little adventure.” He shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining. It works out better for me.”

“It does?” she squeaked, her anxiety over Terra and Ven’s fates giving her temporarily courage.

He didn’t answer right away. He stood arms-length from her now, and she could feel his golden eyes roving over her face.

Then, he said it.

“You’ll never see them again, Aqua.”

She went rigid. A blaze of anger rushed through her, bursting out of her in the words, “What makes you think that?”

“ _Easy_.” She almost heard the smirk spread across his face. “They’ve handicapped themselves. It’ll be a snap.”

“H-how?”

“Because they left you behind,” he whispered. “Terra and Ventus, they beat me by drawing strength from that stupid bond you have. But now, the trio’s been broken. They’re _weak_.”

He reached out suddenly and touched her cheek. It was like he’d stuck her with an electric prod, so violent was her body’s reaction, and he reacted almost the same moment she did. His other hand flashed out, gripping her upper arm tight, holding her securely in place. The feeling of his glove against her bare skin started her panic up anew, and she lashed out, knuckles crashing into his helmet.

He staggered back. She gaped at him, unable to believe what she had just done. When he rubbed his head and straightened up, she cringed, though she did not run. It made no difference if she did.

“What was that for?” he snapped.

He sounded like a child who had just been tripped in a game of tag. That tone, that utter lack of regret or remorse or even any indication that he had crossed a line, set her off. “To prove we’re not weak!” she snarled. “Terra and Ven won’t be stopped by you.”

He snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

Even though her anger was rapidly fading to be replaced by nervousness, words continued to tumble out of her. “They’ll beat you,” she said. “They’ll stop whatever plan you’re trying to pull off, and then they’ll come back home.”

“Ok, fine.” Vanitas spread his hands wide in a placating manner. “I’ll play along. Let’s say they _do_ beat me. It doesn’t mean you’ll see them again.”

She struggled to understand him. “What?”

“Oh, Aqua.” He shook his head, as if ashamed. “Don’t you see what’s happening here? It’s not hard; history’s just repeating itself. They’ll have their epic adventure, beat the bad guy, save the universe . . . and then they’ll hate you.”

“That makes no sense!” She truly believed what she was saying, she did, but Vanitas had a way of crawling under her skin.

Examining a gloved hand, Vanitas said, “I bet Terra never thought he’d hate Master Eraqus.”

She had nothing to say to that.

Vanitas, seeing his opening, pounced. “Yep, they’ll go through the plot of their little story, experience things you can only begin to imagine, and they’ll _change_. They won’t be the same people you remember. They’ll be different. Ready to move on and leave the past behind. Ready to leave _you_ behind.”

“They wouldn’t do that,” she said. “They promised!”

“But it’s already started!” Vanitas laughed wildly, and the skies rumbled in answer. “They didn’t leave you behind because they love you, Aqua; they left you behind because you’re _weak_. To them, you’re a symbol of their failings, of weakness. You’re like a diseased limb, and they’re getting ready to cut you off so that the rest of the body can flourish.”

His mask melted away, and she could only stand there as he marched up to her and took firm possession of her arms.

“The second they left you behind, they sealed their doom,” he said, accentuating every syllable.

“Shut up!” she shrieked, pushing him away. “You’re lying! You’re a liar!”

Vanitas didn’t even bother to address that. “See you later, Aqua.”

His back turned to her, he casually walked away.

And she woke up.


	9. Chapter 9

Terra’s glider whizzed through the air. That dragon, he had heard it roaring in this direction, he was sure of it! He didn’t care if it was a giant scaled monster with long claws and a fiery breath; he was going to get Ven back, damn it!

 _Should have left him home with Aqua_ , he thought dully, even though he knew that wouldn’t have been an option. He needed Ven to help beat Vanitas. Plus, unlike Aqua, there was no reason for Ven to stay home. This _was_ his other half they were chasing after. If anything, Ven almost had more right than Terra to fight Vanitas.

Almost. Vanitas had gone after Aqua and Ven, and that meant that Terra had every right to hunt him down.

Strangely, even though he was way above the trees in the middle of a smoggy but otherwise clear sky, he couldn’t find the dragon. It could be that its black scales blended into the background, but seriously? A giant dragon – how could he lose that?

But somehow, he had and now instead of enacting bloody violence on his best friend’s kidnapper, he was flying over a man limping through the woods. Though Aqua and Ven would have been horrified to hear it, his first instinct was to carry on and leave that person behind. He needed to go rescue Ven! Soon enough though, the nobility of his profession caught up with him, and urged him to see what was up.

He landed, stepping onto the ground and dismissing his keyblade in one clean move. The man was slumped against a tree, holding his abdomen as he panted. A fluttering red cape hid most of his body from view, however, Terra could still make out the tip of a sword. Not a good sign.

“Are you okay?” Terra asked. To a passer-by, the way he held himself, with his hands raised in a sign of surrender, seemed completely natural. It was far from that though; it was actually a defensive posture, where his hands were clear of his body in case he needed to summon Earthshaker.

Such precautions proved unnecessary as the man did not attack. He merely turned, a prominent frown visible under brown eyes. With this new angle, Terra could see that it was not only a sword the other person wielded, but a shield decorated with a silver cross. He had a fair face with defined features, a smooth face. No doubt, he was a person of noble background.

“How are you awake?” the man asked.

“ . . . I’m sorry?”

The man said, “Flora – a fairy – she enchanted this castle and placed everyone inside it into a deep sleep. How are you still awake?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Terra pointed out.

“I was in a sorceress’ dungeon,” the man said. “I must have been out of range of the spell.”

“Guess I was too,” Terra said casually. He relaxed; this man didn’t seem to be much of a threat. After looking him over, he remarked, “You’re injured.”

“That would be from the sorceress,” he said. “I was fighting her, would have defeated her too, if that masked stranger hadn’t appeared.”

Masked stranger? It must have been Vanitas, and that knowledge was enough for Terra to place this man in the ‘ally’ category. “Here, let me,” he said, calling his magic to his fingertips as he readied a Cura. The man stared at him curiously, but did nothing as Terra approached.

The wounds were surprisingly few, and the magic did its work quickly. Mouth opened with awe, the man flexed his mended arm, asking, “Are you some sort of wizard?”

He shrugged. “You could say that. My name’s Terra, by the way.”

“Prince Phillip, but you can just call me Phillip,” he said hastily. “I’d love to talk, but I have to get to the castle; the sorceress is holding Princess Aurora there.”

“Wait, Princess Aurora?” Terra’s eyes widened. He must have been talking about the Princess of Heart!

“You know her?” Phillip’s eyes had lit up with suspicion.

“Yeah . . . uh . . .” He fumbled for a convincing lie. “Heard about her. From Merryweather?”

Phillip said, “You know the fairies? You really must be a wizard.”

“Sure, and that’s great and all, but I don’t have time to stick around either. A dragon grabbed my friend, and I’m trying to figure out where it went.”

Phillip asked, “You’re after the sorceress, too?”

“I am?” Terra said.

“Yes, you must be! The sorceress I was fighting – Maleficent – she can change into a dragon.” He spread his arms out, as if stressing how large this dragon was.

Terra blinked. The insanely similar scenarios they were facing were getting to be quite uncanny. Still, he wouldn’t say no to an ally. Ansem and Xion had proven indispensable in Silent Hill, after all. So, when Phillip suggested a team-up, Terra agreed.

While it was always nice to have someone watch your back, there was one problem: Phillip couldn’t fly, and he was too big to share Terra’s glider. Terra had tried opening a portal, of course, but the second he stepped inside, his skin prickled dangerously, a tell-tale warning of some powerful magic ahead. Evidently, this Maleficent had taken precaution against other magical beings – probably to counteract the fairies. That left them travelling on foot, the sluggish pace quickly making Terra tense and anxious. If he caught sight of a wing, heard any sort of beast in the distance, he knew that he would abandon Phillip and leap onto his glider. His duty was to his friends first, and everyone else second.

However, such a choice was unnecessary. If the dragon was still around, it remained silent and hidden. Naturally, this made him worry more; had the dragon flown so far away he couldn’t hear it? He tried to invent other scenarios, told himself the reason it made no sound was because Ven had knocked it out. He could do that. He was a very capable kid.

However, he was only a kid.

Terra was just about to ask how far away the castle was, when he was distracted by a movement in the undergrowth. A thick vine, lined with huge thorns, slithered across their path. It was followed by more and more, until there was a thick wall of greenery in front of them. Seeing this, Phillip scowled. The edge of his sword glimmered in the dim light as he held it aloft.

“Not to worry, I’ll handle . . .”

And his sentence faded into silence when Terra simply cast a Fira spell and burned them away.

Phillip blinked. “Well, that certainly works too.”

“Keep walking,” Terra grunted.

The castle was in plain sight now, and it was _huge_. He didn’t think it was possible, but it seemed even larger and more elaborate than the castle at the Land of Departure. Multiple towers rose up from behind the walls, as if a whole city dwelled there. He had a feeling that the kingdom’s entire population could easily live within, with a generous amount of leftover space.

There was one thing though that broke the otherwise majestic image. Above the castle, swirled a vortex of clouds, like a tornado that hadn’t quite reached ground. It lay above the place like a twisted crown, and occasionally lit up with white bolts of lightning.

There was definitely something evil lurking here.

Someone neighed behind them. A white stallion – the same one that had approached Terra and Ven earlier – galloped through the woods towards them, reins flying behind it. Phillip called out to it, sheathing his sword, and horse and rider joyously reunited. The prince stroked his horse’s neck, saying, “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

Terra cleared his throat, and Phillip said, “This is my horse, Samson. Samson, this is my friend, Terra.”

Terra could see recognition in the steed’s eye. It whinnied, and Phillip said, “You’ve already met?”

“You can understand him?” Terra asked.

“Of course.” Phillip said that as if it was the norm. “Samson says he tried to bring you and a blond boy to help me . . . is that the friend that was kidnapped by Maleficent?”

“Yes.”

Phillip nodded. “Well, we should speed things up a little.” The horse was still as Phillip hauled himself up onto its back. “Hop on. Samson should be able to hold both of us.”

“It’s okay,” Terra said. “I’ll fly.”

“You’ll . . .?” He seemed to think better of his question. “Alright, let’s get to it.”

It was such a relief to be flying again. Though he still had to slow down as to allow Phillip to keep up, they were still going at least twice as fast as they were before. Jaw set, Terra stared at the distant castle, which was slowly growing larger. If the sorceress had her base there and Princess Aurora was there, then Ven probably was too.

Terra grimaced. He had never stormed a castle before, but there was a first time for everything.

* * *

It had been a perfectly ordinary door, the same kind of thick wooden door found in The Land of Departure. Ordinary, however, did not necessarily mean average. In Terra’s opinion, the front doors to the palace were large enough that the dragon itself could have easily pried them apart and slipped inside. They were reinforced too, with metal rails that held a silver sheen. All in all, pretty sturdy.

At least it had been. Right now, there was a huge hole in the bottom’s center.

Terra walked into the castle. He clipped the fringes of the hole on the way, causing blackened wood to crumble to ashes. His keyblade was out, still glowing faintly from the spell he had used. Prince Phillip followed close behind him, leading his horse by the reins. There was a surprising amount of light in the castle and they stood there, right in front of the hole, as if waiting. Terra’s breath rose in a cloud of steam, drifting away in a draft.

“Samson, you wait out here,” Phillip said. “I don’t think you’ll be able to get around inside.”

The horse snorted, and then clopped back outside.

“Now what?” Terra asked. “This place is huge.”

“We could split . . .”

Terra interrupted. “That’s a _terrible_ idea. Trust me, I would -”

 He cut himself off abruptly as he saw a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. He whipped around, seeing a spiky blond head retreat into a room.

“Ven!” he cried, rushing towards the room. Behind him, Phillip shouted in surprise, before breaking into a run himself.

Terra entered the room and the door shut behind him with a click. A couple of seconds passed, and then Phillip was hammering on the wood. It took Terra a while to notice, as he was too busy searching for Ven.

But then a bitter scent hit his nose. _Darkness,_ his mind warned. But where?

He flashed back to Silent Hill, to those illusions of Eraqus, Aqua and Ven that had haunted him within the jail. He held that picture of the fake Ven in his mind, compared it to the one he just saw . . .

And swore. He’d fallen for it _again_?

He turned back towards the door, blinking in surprise at the green barrier in front of it. It sparked with energy, making the hairs on his arm rise when he brought them near. Aqua probably would have easily been able to breach this, but he wasn’t so gifted in magical theory. He usually just used brute force to get through spells.

He was about to try that, to drive his keyblade right into the center of the barrier, when someone screamed. Well, scream would be the wrong word. Maybe ‘shouted’ or ‘talked really loudly’ would be better. Still, it caught his attention and with a shout to Phillip that he would be back, Terra stomped towards the sound.

He passed through a door on the other side of the room, and found a green-skinned woman with a raven on her shoulder. She was oddly dressed, wearing a black and purple robe and holding a large staff. It was that she used to keep the monsters attacking her at bay: several of the same boar-like creatures he and Ven had encountered in the woods. They prodded at her with their spears, never actually touching her, but still close enough to be threatening. To Terra, the action seemed oddly unenthusiastic.

“Hey!” he shouted, pointing at the boars. “Leave her alone!”

To his surprise, they immediately fled. He blinked once, twice, before his mind accepted the fact he wasn’t getting a fight. Still, he glanced around him suspiciously as he approached the woman. Traps came in all sorts of forms.

“You saved me,” the woman said, her eyes glinting underneath eyelids with heavy mascara.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, still a bit peeved that he didn’t get to fight.

The woman waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, took it upon herself to ask, “What is your name, young man?”

“Terra,” he said.

“Terra. . .” Her lips curled into a smile that was both benevolent and predatory. “Then I owe you my thanks, Terra.”

Thinking out loud, he said, “Who are – wait, why are you awake? Isn’t everyone supposed to be asleep or something?”

“You know, then? Well, it just so happens that the spell does not affect others gifted with the powers of sorcery.”

Oh, okay. That made sense. Terra knew that Aqua tended to be more resistant to magic than him or Ven. “Who are you?” he asked, finishing his original question.

“Who am I . . .?” She said that slowly, as if mulling over it. “Merryweather.”

“Oh!” Terra exclaimed. “You’re the good fairy, aren’t you?”

“. . . Yes.”

“Okay then,” he said. “I’m here looking for my friend, Ven, with Prince Phillip. He was grabbed by some sort of dragon!”

“Is that so . . .?”

“You can trust me,” he said quickly. “I’m one of Master Eraqus’s students.”

There was a pause before Merryweather said, “Yes, you seem like a very helpful young man. Fortunately, I happened to know where your friend is being kept. I can take you there.”

“Okay.” Finally, something was going his way! “Let me just get Phillip here . . .”

“No!” A sudden gale blew through the air, whipping Merryweather’s robes around her. She looked fierce at that moment, like some goddess conjuring up a storm. But then the wind died, her clothes touched the ground again, and that image was gone. “It is too risky,” she said. “If we break that barrier, we risk alerting the sorceress. Come, we must hurry!”

Terra had initially wanted to tell Phillip what was going on, but upon hearing the implication that their time might be limited, he was immediately onboard with Merryweather’s plan. Without a second thought for the one he left behind, he followed her into the labyrinth of the castle’s interior.

It soon became apparent that they were moving higher instead of lower. Strange. He would have thought that the dungeons would be in the basement. But he followed without comment, taking in the sad scene around him. He didn’t know for how long this kingdom had been asleep, but if the state of the castle was anything to go by, it must have been a while. There were vines creeping in and out of the walls, spider webs in the corner, and the only light was the odd torch mounted on the wall.

Finally, they reached a spiralling staircase, so dark that Terra ended up casting his own light. Merryweather, however, did not seem disturbed. She moved through the darkness easily, as she was outside in the bright sunlight.

There was a single door at the top of the staircase and Merryweather opened it delicately, stepping aside for Terra to enter first. He did so, blinking as he adjusted to the weird lighting in the room. It came from a floating orb in the center of the room, a green version of a light spell Aqua and Ven often used. Apart from that, there was a spinning wheel, half-covered by a grey sheet, and a bed, upon which laid a limp body.

“Princess Aurora,” he said. He had never seen a picture of the maiden before, but this must have been her. She had an elegant figure, complimented by a blue dress. Blond hair framed her soft face, which was peaceful as she slept. Most telling though, a crown was perched on her brow.

Although she had been the reason he had gone to this world in the first place, Terra couldn’t help but complain. “That’s not Ven.”

Merryweather smirked.

“It’s great that we found her and all,” Terra said, “but where’s Ven . . . ? Merryweather?”

“Call me Maleficent.”

“ . . . _What!_ ”

Before he could react, the woman thrust her staff at him, and something invisible smacked into his chest. He was thrown across the room, crashing into the wall, where vines slithered out of the stones and tied him down securely. Snarling, Terra tried to rip himself out of their grip, but they only wound tighter around him.

“You! You’re the dragon, aren’t you?” Terra demanded.

The woman laughed. “That is correct,” she said.

Terra fumed. How could he have fallen for that? He fought again, grimacing when the vine around his neck tightened.

“What do you want from me?” he said.

Maleficent smiled. “Why don’t we call it a favour?”

“Not happening,” Terra sneered. “There’s no way I’m going to help you.”

Maleficent did not seemed perturbed.  She idly scratched the underside of the raven’s chin, making it croak in contentment. “What things one can do with the simple power of sleep . . .” she murmured. “I can awaken what's inside you. Then you will be free to be who you truly are.”

“Is there a point to this?” Terra deadpanned.

Maleficent tipped her staff towards him. “Sleep, child.”

The staff’s tip burned, and then Terra’s eyes were drifting shut. _What, no!_ He fought vainly to keep them open, the muscles in his face growing taut. He wiggled his toes, clenched his fists, anything he could think of to stay awake. But despite it all, he could feel the numbness of sleep creeping up on him, starting at his feet and spreading upwards.

“Goodnight,” Maleficent said.

And Terra knew only darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing Ven was aware of was the pain in his head. Though there was nothing touching it save the cool air, it still felt raw and exposed, throbbing like a bruise that was repeatedly poked. His first thought was to rub the spot, see if he was bleeding, but his arms failed to move.

It was then he realized that what he had taken to be one giant pain was actually several smaller pains. It wasn’t just his head that hurt, but something cold and sharp was biting into his wrists. His spine hurt too, aching from being slumped over for who knew how long.

He struggled out of instinct, and the manacles only carved deeper into his flesh. They were on his wrists, keeping his arms firmly in place, and a couple of others held his ankles in place, letting him do little more than lift his heels off the ground.

Adrenaline set his blood on fire, but even that fear-laced strength wasn’t enough to free him. He was tightly restrained, lacking the room to even manoeuvre his keyblade and unlock his chains. He thrashed like a fly caught in a spider’s web, whimpers escaping him from time to time. Eventually, he gave up and dangled there, breathing heavily.

It was a dark, damp room he was held in. There were no windows; only the iron bars of the cell allowed light to enter. What worked its way past the bars was weak though, and the light faded before it was more than a metre away from the door. The rest of the cell was submerged in darkness, and when he craned his neck, it took him a moment to make out the outline of his own body.

 _Well, this sucks_ , he thought, surprisingly calm. He supposed the gravity of his situation hadn’t quite sunk in yet.

That must have been true, because he very quickly became bored. Left alone, there was nothing he could do but blankly stare ahead. Plus, his nose itched and he couldn’t scratch it. He scrunched it up, hoping to find some relief that way. Instead, it only made the itch worse.

He was finally distracted from his ordeal by the sound of footsteps. They were sharp ones, like the clacking of high heels against stone. Of course, it was unlikely some gentlewoman was walking down to see him. He took a deep breath and prepared himself, expecting to see Maleficent.

What he got though was much, much worse.

The second that boot moved into view, Ven paled. It was not Maleficent, but _Vanitas_. His helmet was gone, and his black hair seemed even more unruly and messy than usual, perfectly complimenting his feral grin. He put a hand on the cell’s door, standing there as if waiting for something.

Ven could feel his other half’s gaze burning into his skin. He squirmed, trying to turn away from the sight of those eyes, to do _anything_. Vanitas watched this all with amusement, a dark snicker escaping him.

“Something wrong, Ventus?” he purred. He pushed the door open, and slunk across the dark room towards his prey. He touched the side of Ven’s face almost gently, only to immediately grab his neck and _squeeze_. “You can tell me.”

He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even force a gasp from between his lips. After a few second, Vanitas clucked his tongue and released him, letting Ven take a few pained breaths.

“Stop looking so sad. We’re going to have lots of fun!” Vanitas said.

Ven looked up into the eyes of the other boy, and recoiled, back scraping against the wall. He could see it there, plain as day, that Vanitas intended to hurt him. It would be no simple hurt either. It would be brutal, bloody, anything and everything the boy could think of. And what made it even worse was that awful grin he wore, a wide, toothy one like his own signature smile, which displayed nothing but utmost glee.

 _No, no!_ He struggled again, chains rattling, vibrating as he trembled. The metal dug into his skin as he tried to wriggle his wrists free.

And Vanitas watched, smiling.

He grabbed Ven’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You have a lot of things to answer for,” Vanitas said quietly, dangerously. “Let’s start with Aqua.”

Of course that would be the first ‘topic’. For Vanitas, everything began with Aqua. From the memories Ven had gleaned, he knew that Aqua had inadvertently triggered Vanitas’s obsession with them (except, perhaps, Vanitas’s obsession with Ven himself).  It was her kind, motherly manner, such a contrast to Master Xehanort’s ways, that fed the monster inside of Vanitas and had pushed the dark boy over the ledge. Though Ven knew Aqua was ultimately guiltless, sometimes, in his darker moments, he blamed her for what had happened in Silent Hill.

But she was still his best friend.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Ven growled. “I saved her from _you_. That’s it.”

The fingers on his chin tightened, the pressure enough to leave bruises. But then they loosened again, for some reason.  “I’m not talking about what happened in Silent Hill,” Vanitas said softly. “I’m talking about what happened _after_.”

“After?” Ven repeated.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Vanitas hissed. “I _am_ darkness, Ventus! Did you think I wouldn’t notice your disgusting _light_?”

He slammed Ven’s head back against the wall, making his vision go blurry. He barely heard Vanitas as he snarled, “You’ve blocked me! You’re trying to kick me out of her heart!”

Distantly, weakly, Ven said, “Like I said, I saved her from you.”

Vanitas laughed wildly. “Last night, I was in her dreams,” he said giddily, like a man admitting to winning the lottery. “You can’t break us apart, Ventus . . . I won’t let you.”

He stepped back, giving Ven plenty of room. “We don’t need to do this,” Vanitas said. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll let you go right now, leave you alone forever, and you and Terra can go back home and live happily ever after . . . but I get Aqua.”

“No deal,” Ven said immediately.

“We’re from the same heart,” Vanitas said. “A 50/50 split, so it only makes sense that each of us gets one . . .”

“No deal,” Ven said.

Vanitas scowled. “I’m trying to be the good guy,” he claimed. “Here I am, offering you an olive branch, and you’re just throwing it back in my face!”

“If you really were a good guy, you wouldn’t be trying to make these kinds of deals. You would let Aqua and Terra _choose_ ,” Ven said.

To Ven’s disbelief, Vanitas said, “I would, but Aqua _can’t_ choose. She’s been brainwashed by your light into worshipping you!”

“We are not making a deal,” Ven said. “Just give it up.”

A sudden quiet followed, unnerving.

Vanitas suddenly reached up, and curled his fist around one of Ven’s fingers. “Sure you don’t want to reconsider?” he asked.

Though Vanitas hadn’t done anything, though he hadn’t voiced any threats, Ven’s heart stopped. He could feel it: danger. He knew that when he answered, something bad would happen.

Ven stammered, “No.”

Vanitas grinned.

And with a resounding crack, Vanitas wrenched his finger straight back.

He screamed. That’s all he could do. He had been completely unprepared for the pain, which tore at him like Vanitas had stuffed a living, furious wildcat down his throat. Vanitas laughed hysterically, suddenly ripping into Ven’s cheeks with his ungloved hands, purely because he could. Blood swelled at the wounds, boiling hot as they dripped down his face.

“Your blood has such a pretty colour,” Vanitas said, smacking his lips. “After I take you back to Silent Hill, I’ll think I’ll paint a picture with it. Any requests?”

Ven kept his silence, too busy trying to hold back another scream. It was wedged in his throat, hard and awkward. If he hadn’t been chained by the wrists, he would have fallen to the ground by now, his body having gone limp when it realized that escape was impossible. All he could do was wait for Vanitas’s next move, the dread so great he was sure he was going to be sick.

Vanitas sighed, as if irritated by Ven’s lack of response. Then he snapped a second finger.

The sound that escaped Ven was a mix of a wheeze and a choke. His stomach lurched, making him arch; his saliva grew thin and salty even though no vomit came. With a toxic smirk, Vanitas studied his captive. His knuckles brushed Ven’s cheeks in almost a friendly way; indeed, it would have been fine if he hadn’t deliberately placed extra pressure where the cuts where. For his part, Ven didn’t even wince. The pain from that was so slight it wasn’t worth reacting to.

“You can end this any time,” Vanitas said softly. “Just let her go.”

“That’s not my decision to make,” he grated out.

“I’m not telling you to give her to me,” Vanitas said. “I just want you to stop controlling her so she can choose.”

If looks could kill, Vanitas would be dead. “She _has_ chosen,” Ven said. “She chose us.”

“Wrong answer!”

He grabbed one of Ven’s fingers – for the third time now – and wrenched it back. And Ven could only scream again as the force of the bone snapping quivered through him. Even after the fact, the agony lingered with a throb that swelled and ebbed with his pulse.

“Never knew you were such a masochist,” Vanitas remarked. “Don’t worry. I can give you _so_ much more than this.”

Before anything else could be said, there was what sounded like an explosion. Vanitas blinked, his vicious smirk momentarily lost. The noise came again, shaking the walls, and little specks of rock fell from the ceiling.

“What in the worlds . . .?” Vanitas stepped away from Ven, mask sliding up to cover his head as he looked around. Ven gasped in relief, eyes rolling up in his head, giving him a nice view of the ceiling . . .

That’s why he saw it crack.

Vanitas noticed a second later, and the two of them just stared, hearts pounding with fear and anticipation.

From the cracks, thin tendrils of darkness wriggled out. They burrowed into the stone, chipping it further, joined by dozens of their friends which coiled around them. By the end, it looked like a set of fingers were gripping that patch of ceiling, and Ven thought he could see veins bulging as the fake hand heaved . . .

With an earth-shaking crack, the dark hand ripped the ceiling away. In the newly formed hole, all Ven could see was black – and a pair of pupil-less yellow eyes in the center. With the screech of nails scratching against a blackboard, something terrible leapt into the jail cell, landing in a crouch.

Though the monster turned to face Vanitas, Ven began to shout and squirm. There was unnaturalness, a _wrongness_ surrounding this creature. So much darkness cloaked it that Ven thought it was going to going to crush him. He could feel it poking into his skin like a knife, seeking to pierce it and slip inside. It seemed like a giant hand was squeezing him, threatening to break his ribs and everything underneath. Though the being seemed to have its attention solely focused on Vanitas, Ven knew without doubt that it knew exactly where he was.

Vanitas said, “What in Hades?”

The monster hummed, sending a current of energy through the air that made Ven’s teeth chatter. Then, without warning, it lunged at Vanitas, carrying what looked like a giant slab of metal, an axe-sword if Ven remembered correctly.

Though it missed Vanitas by a wide margin, the blade did cut into the bars of the cell. No, wait, not into, but _through_. It sliced straight through the first two bars in its path, and stuck in the third one. The monster hardly seemed to notice at first, jerking forwards only to realize that its weapon was trapped. Then, with ease it seemed, it pulled it out.

Vanitas had already retreated out of the cell and down the hall, leaving him out of Ven’s range of sight. Unfortunately, it seemed like the monster couldn’t see Vanitas either, as it suddenly swung around to face Ven. His first instinct was to run, but the iron manacles bit into his ankles, and it dawned on him that he was trapped.

“Please . . . don’t.” Ven tried to curl up into a ball and disappear, but the chains prevented that. His eyes were closed, but he could feel that the monster was right in front of him. The air he breathed in seemed cold and smoggy, as if tainted.

The monster hummed again.

“ _No_!” There were hot tears running down his face now, adding to his pathetic state. “Don’t, please!”

The chains went taut as the monster grabbed them . . .

And with the rumble of crumbling rock, the monster ripped them straight off the wall.

Ven toppled forwards, but the monster caught him. At the icy touch, Ven’s eyes snapped open and he tore himself out of the monster’s grip, trying to flee. Unfortunately, his legs were still restrained, so he ungracefully fell into the wall instead.

Ven backed away as the monster raised its weapon. But the monster did not aim its weapon at him, but at the chains on his ankles, and a beam of black light swiftly connected them. There was a click, and then Ven was free.

“Wh-what?”

He looked closer at the weapon, finding that it was no longer an axe-sword, but a _keyblade_. There was something familiar about it, something reassuring. But that small feeling was nothing compared to the terror the monster inspired in him.

“St-stay away!” he demanded, backing into a corner. His injured hand was cradled against his chest, creating fiery spikes of pain every time it was shifted.

The darkness around the monster had faded a little, revealing what appeared to be a horned head. Apart from that, Terra could see a sharp-tipped hand gripping the keyblade and what appeared to be . . . metal?

Vanitas returned in that moment, keyblade drawn. “You just don’t know how to mind your own business!” he spat at the monster.

What? They knew each other? Actually, what was he thinking; of course they did! Vanitas knew about everything demonic and creepy. The real question was why these two weren’t best buddies.

The monster grabbed him again, and Ven froze. Maybe they _were_. However, if Vanitas’s angered cry was anything to go by, they weren’t. The masked boy advanced threateningly, although he was still careful to stay at a safe distance. The monster merely reacted by raising a hand, creating a dark portal next to it.

Ven felt himself shifted back, and then he was lifted off his feet as the monster flung him towards the portal.

* * *

The glider cut through the dark clouds, its soft light neatly driving them away. Through the gap, a beam of sunlight emerged, highlighting the descent of the keyblade and its rider. Only for a few seconds, however, as then the clouds rushed in to fill the space, and the world was painted in dull colours again.

Suspended in the sky, Aqua studied the world before her. The Enchanted Domain . . . according to her Master’s notes, this is where Terra and Ven had gone to. The dead world certainly looked like somewhere Vanitas would gravitate to, and at once she was reminded of the darkness that had plagued Silent Hill.

Pushing that thought from her mind, she reminded herself why she was here, unconsciously urging her keyblade to shine even brighter. Terra and Ven, she needed to find them before they fell into Vanitas’s hands. Where they were, she wasn’t quite sure, but they were looking for Princess Aurora, and princesses often lived in castles . . .

There was a castle right below her . . .

She gulped. This world really did look dead. She actually thought it might have been morning, but there was a darkness over these woods. She could practically taste it, and the bitterness rolled down her throat, into her stomach and made it . . .

She dove straight down towards the building, heart booming in her ears. Apart from the clouds the skies were empty; no birds skimmed the air around her. She didn’t like it, the emptiness. It felt too much like she was heading to some final showdown.

She reached the castle’s doors, finding that someone had already blasted a hole through them. Not a good sign, but at least the inside was lit. Holding Rainfell tight, she walked into the foyer, stepping quietly.

She was not alone. There was a man in here, a man with brown hair and a red cape. He paced impatiently in front of a door with a glimmering barrier, occasionally pausing to scratch his chin. A friend, was he, or a foe? That was the question she had to ask herself, and in response, she thought she could sense some sort of light around him.

“Hello?”

The man turned. “Another person awake?” He shook his head. “I’m beginning to think Flora is all talk. My name’s Phillip.”

“I’m Aqua. I’m looking for my friends, Terra and Ven.”

“I’ve seen Terra,” he said to her delight. “He and I were looking for that other friend of yours, but we were separated by this. . .” He grunted as he drove a sword into the barrier. “. . . magic.”

“Terra’s beyond there?” she said sharply. At his nod, she turned her attention to the barrier. She prodded at it with Rainfell, letting the foreign magic shudder up its shaft and into her where she could more easily study it. It was definitely a corruption of the Reflect spell, though weaker than it first appeared. If she were to guess, its caster had been wounded somehow.

 _Probably by Terra and Ven_ , she thought happily. With that in mind, she easily overpowered the barrier with her magic, feeling the foreign spell shatter like a glass figurine dropped upon a hard floor.

“Are you coming along?” Aqua asked. “Because I . . .”

Her words were cut short as the castle shook. Somewhere, deep within its bowels, there was a boom.

And then one word.

“ _Aqua_ . . .”

Her face going white, she stumbled backwards. Phillip, meanwhile, had taken up a defensive posture, bravely stepping in front of her. For a long minute, they remained like that. Then, cautiously, Phillip began to lower his sword, though Aqua still kept Rainfell steady.

Something cold brushed against her back.

“Below you!” Phillip cried.

Aqua looked down, and erupted in chills when she saw the inky black portal beginning to develop. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think about anything except how cold the darkness was . . . Phillip grabbed her then, hauling her away from the portal just as a hand reached out and tried to close on her leg.

They watched in horrified awe as something dragged itself out of the portal’s depths. Whatever it was, it was _dark_. She could barely see past the black cloud that smothered it; the only thing she knew for certain was that it had a weapon. It was a long, chipped one with a blue jewel set in the head. At first, she didn’t recognize it was a keyblade because the teeth were so weird. They were triangular spikes, situated all around the head, but instead of the pointy ends, that flat ends faced outwards.

“What is that?” she said aloud. Her keyblade grew warm then, and a soft voice echoed in her head.

_Chaos Ripper . . ._

Usually, keyblades recognized each other, so Chaos Ripper must have been the one this creature was using . . . the name didn’t bode well for the creature itself. She gasped as the creature spoke her name again, and held out a hand. Upon seeing she was frozen, Phillip dragged her further from the creature, which only seemed to enrage it. It thrummed violently, slammed its keyblade into the ground, and Aqua pushed Phillip out of the way as a pillar of darkness broke through the ground towards him –

Only not to hit Phillip, but continue past them and slam into a masked boy.

Vanitas had already raised his keyblade to guard against the attack, so it faded without doing any visible damage. The boy lowered his keyblade, bringing it to a more offensive position. And Aqua knew the exact moment he noticed her, because she started to tremble.

She was trapped between two monsters, both of which seemed to have an interest in her.

She and Phillip stood back to back, him facing the unknown, and her facing Vanitas. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to look at him, but she feared him more. Much more.

The dark creature struck first, lunging like a rocket, leaving a trail of flames. Phillip swung his sword, sparks flew as the blades slid against each other, and then the creature was past them and unbelievably attacking Vanitas. She couldn’t even seem them fight, so thick was the darkness surrounding them. But high-pitched clangs, rapid in sequence, rang through the air, until Vanitas finally leapt back.

He shot a dark Firaga at the creature, making it stumble back. At once, Vanitas hurled his keyblade at the creature’s center, and then redirected his focus to the other two. Phillip instinctively charged, raising his shield to deflect the energy wave that swept over him, and thrust. But Vanitas raised a quick shield, stopping Phillip’s sword while it was parallel to the ground.

Vanitas called his keyblade back to him and raised it high, angling it so that his swing would separate Phillip’s head from his body . . . but Aqua quickly blasted him with a Blizzard spell, slowing him down enough that Phillip was able to duck out of the way. Vanitas would have attacked again, but the creature chose that moment to recover, and forced Vanitas to go on the defensive.

Phillip ran over to her. “Aqua, I don’t think we want to get involved in this,” he said.

She nodded breathlessly.

They ran towards a door, intending to leave this all behind them. They got close too before they were caught and then the creature, not Vanitas, shouted, “ _No!_ ” From behind, an energy pulse knocked them off their feet and before Aqua’s eyes, an orange-coloured barrier rose up around the room, trapping them inside.

“Can you break this?” Phillip asked.

Aqua tested it with her keyblade, and the power that rippled through her was so powerful that she dropped Rainfell. “Not easily,” she said. “I don’t think we have that amount of time.”

As if desiring to prove her right, the floor rumbled as the creature jumped high and landed just a few metres away from them. Vanitas had been knocked into a table by a wall, temporarily disoriented. The creature paid him no mind and headed directly for her. She gripped Rainfell with both hands, though that did nothing to stop the shaking. There was so much darkness . . .

Phillip waved, breaking her out of her trance. With a nod, he moved away from her, circling around the creature. She caught on quickly and did the same in the other direction, noting morbidly that the creature also kept turning as to face her.

Which left its back open to Phillip. He charged, but the creature must have heard him. It whirled around, blocking Phillip’s sword in one fell swoop. And it went further. The weight of Chaos Ripper was too much for Phillip’s sword to handle, and the keyblade continued on its deadly path. Phillip’s blade – the flat fortunately – was driven into his own abdomen. He keeled over, leaving him open to an attack from _Vanitas,_ who quickly took his chance.

She winced as Phillip thumped into the wall. _He’s out of his league_ , she realized. He was up against warriors with magic and darkness, and he had none of that. He must have known that too, yet that didn’t stop him from forcing himself to stand.

She needed to draw attention off him, so she used the one thing she knew would make great bait: herself.

She blasted the creature with Thunder, causing it to turn. Then, she reluctantly held her hand out, just as it had done to her. To her surprise, the darkness around it actually seemed to retreat a little, or at least not flail so violently.

But then it returned, as wild as ever, as Vanitas slammed down in front of her. His arms were held wide as if . . . protecting her? The very thought almost broke her mind.

“ _Vanitas_. . .” the creature hissed.

Vanitas pointed his keyblade at the creature. “Last warning.”

The creature didn’t not answer, merely stepped closer. It dragged its keyblade against the floor, the blade shrieking just like . . . just like . . .

The memories bombarded her. The Bogeyman. The knife. A battle in an alleyway.

And Rainfell. Broken into little pieces.

“No!” She reeled back, her magic burning inside her core as she panicked.

“Aqua?” Vanitas said that, actually glancing away from the dark creature before him. He quickly looked back though when the creature attacked him with a mighty downwards stroke.

She looked at them, locked together, concentrating on each other. Vanitas had his back to her, while the creature was technically facing her, but it didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her either. She wouldn’t get a better chance.

She channelled her magic into her keyblade, and then set it loose.

The entire world flashed white as the Mega Flare went off. At the center of the explosion were Vanitas and the creature themselves, collapsed, and the area around them had taken damage as well. By the time the spell faded, the two were encircled by a black floor, and a wall close to the left of them was burnt too.

The creature recovered first, stepping over Vanitas in its mindless pursuit of her. It had a lurching, unsteady gait, like a zombie. Not a comfortable comparison to be making.

“Stay back!” she warned.

The creature ignored her, so she felt perfectly justified in attacking.

She couldn’t place exactly what sort of sound it made. It was at once a scream and a roar, pained and enraged. Her light stripped the darkness from the creature, leaving it very small-looking indeed. Her eyes widened at the crumpled form before her, and she shook her head, unable to believe what she was seeing.

“Terra?”

She ran up to him, horrified at what she had done. He moaned faintly when she shook him and to make things even worse, the sound roused Vanitas.

“Finally,” he breathed. He approached them, keyblade drawn.

“No!” She tried to push Terra behind her and he proved too heavy to move, leapt in front of him herself.

“Get out of the way, Aqua,” Vanitas said quietly.

She shook her head, saying nothing. She knew that if she did, her voice would betray her emotions.

She couldn’t see his face behind that mask, but she knew it was contorted with frustration. “Why?” he demanded. “Why are you doing this?”

“He’s my friend,” she said.

Vanitas growled. “He betrayed us. He’s not your friend!”

“He was protecting me!” she cried. _From you_ , she wanted to add, but she knew that would only infuriate Vanitas. “He never betrayed me.”

A moment of silence passed before Vanitas said, “This is because of Ventus, isn’t it? Him and his goddamn brainwashing!”

That hit a nerve. “They didn’t brainwash me!”

Vanitas shook his head, clucking his tongue. “So naïve.”

She was _not_ going to listen to him. Not this time. She tried to sort her face into its own fierce expression, but despite whether she succeeded or not, Vanitas didn’t react.

Terra stirred. “Aqua . . .”

“This is your final warning. Get out of the way, Aqua.”

She held her ground, preparing for a fight. However, she was prepared to be stricken from the front, not the back. Thus, when Terra locked his arms around her neck, she had no defense. Crushing her throat, Terra dragged her to the ground, where they fell into the center of an opening portal.

The darkness began to crawl up her sides, and she freaked. “Terra, stop. _Stop!_ ”

He ignored her and only pulled her deeper into the darkness.

“Terra, please, stop!”

It was licking at her face now and it . . . it was everywhere and . . . _it was everywhere!_

The whole word became shades of grey and blue. The castle was gone, as was Vanitas and Phillip. Instead, she was in some weird black space, where it was almost impossible to tell apart the ground from the sky. She twisted in Terra’s arms, clawing at his flesh, begging him to bring back the light.

And an iron vice closed over her wrists, prying them away from the eldest apprentice’s chest, but it was not Terra who had moved. Feeling like she was about to meet the gaze of a basilisk, she looked over his head.

Opaque yellow eyes greeted her above a fierce, fanged mouth. Unlike when Terra had been consumed by darkness, she saw this creature for what it was: a heartless. To her horror, its tail led straight into Terra’s back, as if it had sprouted from him. Its arms, huge and muscular just like its host, reached around either side of Terra’s shoulders and held her tight. It hovered just far enough above him that she could see the top of the heart-shaped hole in its abdomen.

It was too much. Too much darkness, too much stress, too much _darkness_.

What little restraint she had snapped.

“Light!” she screamed, shutting her eyes, imagining her light devour the world.

The heartless – or maybe it was Terra – shrieked. But regardless of whether it was her friend screaming, she pressed on. She couldn’t stop. It was too cold. There was too much darkness. She _needed the light back_.

A voice hissed through the air, neither Terra’s nor hers. It was smooth, sinister, saying grimly, “Submit.”

The hold on her wrists tightened, until she was sure that her bones would be reduced to powder. But it was not that which alarmed her, but the sudden hand around her throat.

Her eyes snapped open, staring directly into Terra’s, which had the same, solid colouring of the heartless lurking behind him.

“Stop,” he growled.

But she couldn’t. The spell continued to pour out of her, sapping what reserves she had. And Terra, upon seeing that she wasn’t going to obey him, cut off her air.

She tried to claw at his hands, but the heartless still had her restrained. She could do nothing but listen to the wobbly beating of her heart and her lungs screaming for air.

And for the second time, Terra watched coldly as she fell unconscious.


	11. Chapter 11

“Gah . . . what happened?”

Spitting sand out of his mouth, Ven lifted his head off the ground. Gone was the jail cell that Maleficent had stored him in. No, this was a wide-open space, a beach. It was a dark one, yes, but still one. Waves were gently beating against the shore, tickling his fingers and numbing the throbbing pain there. With a grimace, Ven muttered Curaga under his breath and sighed in relief as the bones healed.

He sat up, looking around. The water extended all the way to the distant horizon and in the opposite direction, back on land, he could barely see that far. It was so dark here . . .

No, not just dark. There was so much _darkness_ here.

If possible, it might have even been purer than the darkness they had found in Silent Hill. Silent Hill, though undeniably ruled by darkness, had some glimmers of light. This place however, it felt like it had never tasted light before.

He had the sudden feeling of being watched, hunted. He summoned Wayward Wind, putting his back to the water. What was this place . . .?

Suddenly, the darkness got even thicker not far from him. A circle formed in midair, slowly expanding to reveal the full form of a portal. A person stepped out, slouched over, something slung over his shoulder. He dragged a familiar brown keyblade behind him, which created a splash of sand when it fell from his loose fingers.

“Terra?” Ven stood. “What’s going on? What’s that . . .?”

He caught a glimpse of blue hair, and his eyes widened. “Is that Aqua?”

Terra did not answer. Biting his lip, Ven ran up to them. Yep, that was definitely Aqua. But what was she doing here, especially in a place like this? Was Terra out of his mind?

It was then he noticed the bruises on her neck, hand-shaped, the same size as . . .

No. His mind shut that thought down. Terra wouldn’t . . . he would never . . . It had to be someone else. It had to be.

“What happened to her?” he asked. He traced one of the bruises, mind creating tons of terrible scenarios. “Terra?”

He tapped Terra, and that’s when it hit him: a bolt of precognition. Something was very wrong. Terra’s light, he couldn’t sense it. He stumbled back, blood running cold.

“Terra?”

When Terra again refused to speak, Ven zapped him with his light. It was just a prick, and yet Terra’s reaction was violent. He howled, backhanding Ven across the face, sending him flying to the edge of the surf.

Rubbing his cheek, Ven recovered in time to see _something_ rise from Terra’s body. A heartless, with flat yellow eyes that matched Terra’s own and a terrible smile. It looked like someone had ripped the skin from Terra’s body and revealed the flesh underneath to be black, and then attached some antennae to his head. As he watched, the heartless took Aqua away from the male apprentice, then leaned down and spoke.

“Submit.”

Terra charged.

Shocked, Ven barely managed to leap out of the way. He spun around on his heels, watching as Terra sprung past him. He wasn’t scared or anything, just . . . blank. His mind couldn’t process the fact that Terra, his overprotective best friend, would attack him.

“Terra, quit it! It’s me, Ven.”

Ven held out his hand, hoping that the invitation would prompt Terra to go back to normal. However, if the disturbingly empty gaze Terra set on him was anything to go by, it didn’t work. To the side of them, the heartless leered, having placed Aqua onto the sand.

His vision narrowed down to that heartless. That was the reason for Terra’s current state, it had to be.

He bolted towards the heartless, bringing his keyblade back. But it sunk into the ground, leaving him with nothing a thin wisp of darkness –

– And then Terra was upon him, cleaving the air in half with a blow that surely would have bloodied his nose if not knocked him out. Ven leaned to the side, Earthshaker passing so close to him that it touched his sleeve. The sand, soft and squishy, absorbed the keyblade’s momentum, costing Terra a valuable second as he had to lift it again. Ven saw this and attacked, whipping his blade horizontally. The shaft crashed into Terra’s chin, stunning him.

Terra was a heavy person, but Ven’s magical speciality had always been wind spells. He blew Terra straight off his feet, then sent the wind under his own feet so that he whizzed away to the spot where the heartless had just emerged. He slid forwards, thrusting.

His aim was true, and the heartless hissed, reeling back. Following the flow of his body, he pivoted past the creature, swirling around and striking it in the back. One, twice – if the heartless had skin, there would have been a cross carved into its back.

The heartless spun around, but Ven was already gone. He had spotted Terra approaching, and had nimbly sought out a better position. Now, at a healthy distance from both opponents, he could choose what to do next.

But of course, they just had to mess up his brilliant plan. The heartless sunk back into the ground, and he couldn’t look around to see where it had gone because Terra was on his way. He balanced himself on the balls of his feet, prepared to run.

But right before he did, a pillar of dark energy shot out from right in front of him. He cringed back, blinded –

– Just as Terra burst through the curtain of darkness. His shoulder slammed into Ven’s midsection, winding him as they hit the ground. Even before his head made contact with sand, Terra was already seeking a better position. Thus, they landed with the older boy straddling the younger, and Terra’s powerful hands creeping towards Ven’s throat.

He tried to push Terra’s hand away, but the older boy was too strong. He forced himself through Ven’s guard, straight for his neck. By simple luck, Ven managed to work an arm in there, and Terra’s hand closed around it, the pressure immediately whispering to Ven that yes, those bruises on Aqua’s neck _were_ from Terra.

The heartless sneered above them, its bottom half fading into Terra’s body as if the creature was some strange growth.

“Submit,” the heartless whispered. Whether it was directed at him or Terra, he didn’t know.

Terra nearly shoved Ven’s arm aside, and Ven swallowed hard as he felt the older boy’s nails brush against his skin. He had one hand covering his throat, the other on Terra’s chest, pushing.

And by chance, the hand on Terra’s chest slid down until it was resting over his heart.

The moment his hand was over Terra’s heart, he felt the darkness within. It was like a black hole, swallowing any light that dared venture near. And yet beyond it, Ven could feel something . . .

He sent his own light in, and it crept along Terra’s heart, acting as feelers. Not a second too soon either, as Terra finally got into a position to strangle him.

Fingers dug into his throat, nearly enough on their own to choke him. Gagging, trying to loosen Terra’s grip with his free hand, he kept his other on Terra’s chest, reaching deeper inside the boy’s heart, sending more light in an attempt to lure out Terra’s light. And just when his lungs were fit to burst and he couldn’t endure anymore, he found something, buried underneath a layer of solid darkness.

But not for long. His light bore through it, found Terra’s light, and _pulled_ . . .

Freedom. He could breathe again, but only for a second as Terra immediately collapsed on top of him.

They remained there, the heartless gone, Terra blissfully unconscious, Ven trying to wiggle out from underneath his bulk. Perhaps a minute ticked by before Terra started to moan. He shifted his weight a bit, fingers digging in to the ground as if about to lift himself up, but then he collapsed again, making Ven squeak in protest.

“T-Terra!” He pushed, trying at least to get Terra’s elbow away from his trachea.

Speaking had an effect. Terra groaned, rolling his head upwards. His blue eyes blinked once before widening, and he regarded Ven with confusion. “Ven, what . . .?”

“Get off, please!”

Terra scampered back, letting Ven take his first real breath ever since those hands had closed around his throat. He did so greedily, rolling over onto his stomach for no other reason than to prove that he now could.

“Ven, what’s going on?” Terra asked. “Where are we . . . ? Maleficent! Where did she go?”

“Don’t you know? You were the one that threw us . . .”

Oh no, Aqua! He jumped to his feet. If she were to wake up in a place like this, she might lose it completely.

“Terra, open up a portal!” he said. “We need to get her out of here.”

“Get whom?” Terra followed the direction of Ven’s gaze. “ _Aqua_?”

That got Terra moving. He half-crawled, half-ran on all fours to where she was lying. His movements jerky yet soft, he rolled Aqua off her side and onto her back, cupping her cheek.

“Ven –”

“Terra, portal! Now.”

Terra nodded and opened a dark portal, scooping up Aqua afterwards and carrying her bridal style towards it. Ven tagged alongside him, not speaking.

They emerged on a bright world, in the middle of a small bridge, where a wall of water to the right sent little droplets to dot their skin. That was only the first of the waterfalls too. It was hard to tell from his vantage point, but there may have been three levels of them, all stacked upon each other. The fine mist they created filled with air with rainbow beams, crisscrossing and bending in a pattern only nature understood.

“Whoa . . .” Ven said.

The place was light in colour, mostly in hues of white and blue. The streets leading off the bridge were cobblestone, pearly white, almost like marble. It was a great change from whatever place they had been in before; Aqua would love to stay in a world like this.

“Terra, where are we?” he asked.

“Radiant Garden,” he said. “Come on, let’s find somewhere to stay so we can figure out what the hell is going on.”

They wandered the streets, coming across no one. A good thing, too, as the bruises on the two younger apprentices’ necks would have raised some awkward question, to say nothing of the fact that Terra was still carrying Aqua. Frankly, it was a miracle Terra hadn’t noticed the bruises yet. Or maybe he had, and was simply in denial.

They winded up at a hotel, where Terra left Ven with Aqua outside while he entered to arrange for a room. Afterwards, they sought out the room. Terra didn’t even bother using his key, instead nodding at Ven to use his already-out keyblade. Then they entered, Terra setting down Aqua on one of the room’s two couches.

“What the hell is she doing here?” he mumbled. “She should be at home.”

Ven gave a start. “Terra, you were the one that brought her here.”

“What are you talking about?” he snapped. “I told Eraqus to keep her there. Bastard couldn’t even do that.”

Ven stared helplessly. “Terra, you had her slung over your shoulder.” He made a few gestures towards his own shoulder.

“What? How . . .?” Terra blinked, shaking his head. “That can’t be. Last thing I remember, Maleficent was telling me to sleep. And that place . . . how did we get there anyways.”

“You tossed me into a portal,” Ven said bluntly, “that was before you tried to strangle me.”

By no means did Ven want to say that, but Terra needed to hear the truth. And hear, he did. Terra’s jaw fell open; his knuckles were white as he grabbed the couch’s armrest.

Terra murmured, “No, no, I would never . . . I couldn’t have . . .”

His eyes flickered to Aqua. He took his hand, placed it on top of the bruise on her neck, and the colour drained from his face when he saw it was a match.

“No!” He stumbled right into the wall. “I couldn’t have done that. I would never hurt you guys!”

“Terra, calm down!” Ven ran between Terra and the door, scared that the older boy would bolt. “I don’t think it was you. There was this weird thing around you, a heartless.”

“A heartless,” Terra said hoarsely.

Ven nodded. “It was talking and everything.”

“Heartless can’t talk,” Terra muttered. “That thing . . . what was it? Where did it come from?”

Terra looked up, and Ven could feel his eyes boring a hole in his throat. Self-consciously, he rubbed the area, swiftly realizing that Aqua wasn’t the only one who carried marks from Terra’s lapse into insanity.

“D-did I do that?” Terra whispered.

No use in hiding it. Turning his face so that he couldn’t see the older boy, Ven nodded.

Springs creaked as Terra plopped onto the second couch. His gaze was distant, focused on a spot on the wall. He didn’t notice as Ven sat next to him, nor when the boy nudged him.

“Terra, it’s fine. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was weak,” Terra said. “That thing was able to control me because I was weak.”

“You’re not weak!” Ven cried. He poked Terra in the arm. “How can you be weak with those?”

What Ven said didn’t work. Terra turned away from him, head in his hands. On the other couch, Aqua’s eyes fluttered.

“Aqua!” Ven ran over to her. Terra pitched forwards, but then seemed to think better of it and remained seated, his skin a ghastly pallor.

Aqua’s eyes opened, but she still seemed to be half-asleep. Absently she rubbed her throat, a move that made Ven flinch and look back at Terra, who was steadily staring at his feet.

“Ven?” Aqua blinked furiously. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s complicated,” Ven said. “I’m not entirely sure myself.”

“Where’s Terra?” she asked sharply.

Hearing her ask for him, Terra stood up with clear reluctance. He slogged over to where Aqua was waiting. He took a deep breath, then said, “Hey, Aqua.”

She grew tense. For a long second, she refused to look at him. Then, gradually, her head turned sideways, and she looked up his body and into his face . . .

Whatever she saw there must have been reassuring, because she relaxed.  She said, “Guys, what’s going on? Did you kill the heartless?”

Ven gave Terra a sideways look, saying, ‘I told you so’. To Aqua, he said, “No, but it’s been taken care of.”

“That’s good to hear.” She touched her throat again, wincing slightly.

And Terra fell to his knees. “I’m so sorry!” he blubbered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you . . . I mean I would never hurt you! I have no idea what happened. One second, I’m being attacked by this sorceress, the next I’m in the middle of nowhere with you two and Ven telling me I attacked him. I didn’t mean to drag you into this! You weren’t supposed to get involved.”

He was on his knees in front of her, holding her hand in both of his in some weird mockery of a proposal. Aqua seemed at a complete loss. She gave Ven a silent plead, then patted Terra awkwardly on his head.

“It’s okay,” she said. “We forgive you.”

Terra snorted. “You shouldn’t,” he said darkly. “This was my fault. That heartless, it took control of me because I was _weak_ , I was . . .”

Managing to slip into the space between him and the couch, Aqua joined Terra on his knees, and cut him off. “Terra, enough. You’re not weak.”

“I am,” he insisted. “If I wasn’t, you guys wouldn’t have been hurt. . .”

“No, you’re not!” Both Terra and Ven jumped. Aqua had almost sounded angry. “You beat Vanitas, and rescued us from the church. You are _not_ weak.”

Seeing what she was doing, Ven added his own two cents. “Yeah, and you saved me from that giant darkside in Silent Hill, remember? And I would have been toast if you hadn’t broke me out of Maleficent’s castle!”

“I saved you?” Terra echoed.

“Yeah.” Ven hopped off the couch, so that he could sit cross-legged on the floor with them. “Vanitas, he was . . . he was being a real jerk, but then you came out of nowhere and drove him off.”

“You jumped in when Vanitas tried to go after me, too,” Aqua said. “Terra, I’m not sure what happened, but you were in enough control to protect us when it really counted.”

Ven had thought that their words would be enough to cheer Terra up, but he was staring at Aqua with nothing less but horror. “Vanitas attacked you?” he demanded. “In the Land of Departure?”

Ven frowned. That was a good question.

Aqua’s mouth worked soundlessly. She glanced towards the door, as if deciding whether or not to run. “Not exactly.”

“Then where . . .?”

“The Enchanted Domain.”

Ven’s prey hackles rose. The Enchanted Domain? But that meant Aqua had left home! Instantly, he inched away from Terra and closer to Aqua, protectively angling himself so that he was slightly in front of her. A good move too, as he could nearly feel the heat rising from Terra.

“What were you doing there?” Terra asked. It would have been less scary had he yelled.

“I came after you guys,” Aqua said. She spoke quickly, anticipating Terra’s eruption. “I had to! You guys were walking right into a trap.”

“You were supposed to stay at home!” he bellowed. “I gave Eraqus specific instructions about that!”

“I know,” she said, “he doesn’t know I’m here.”

Terra said, “So, you just decided to chase after us, go to a completely unknown world without telling anyone. Are you stupid?”

Ven edged a little more in front of her, mouth dry. “Terra, calm down.”

“You could have been killed!” Terra hollered. “Maleficent could have caught you, or Vanitas! Do you have any idea how much he wants you?”

“Terra –”

“No! No excuses!” Ven wasn’t sure how, but Terra had gotten to his feet so fast that they hadn’t seen the transition. “That was a dumb decision. You shouldn’t have come.”

Aqua was the next to rise. “Terra, please!”

Ven shouted when Terra grabbed her, crinkling her collar while he towered above her. He had leaned over slightly, just enough so that his face was only an inch away from hers.

“You knew I didn’t want you to come, I can tell,” he rumbled. He brought her even closer up to his face, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes.

“Terra, stop it!” Ven wrapped his arms around the thick coil of Terra’s triceps, but the larger boy would not be denied his prey.

Terra said, “Next time you disobey me, the consequences will be severe.”

The smart thing to do would have been to back down. Let Terra walk all over them. But Aqua must have been braver, stronger than he thought, because her eyebrows suddenly knitted together in outrage.

“I’m not your slave,” she spat. “You can’t –”

“ _You will do as I tell you!_ ”

The blaze of Terra’s fury left nothing but ashes, shock in its wake. Ven held still for a second, then he pried his nails out of Terra’s skin, a few ruby drops marking the places where they had been embedded. Wayward Wind made their connection known, thrumming anxiously, and he, speechless, could only listen to his keyblade. It appeared in a flash of light, highlighting the lines in Aqua’s face as she stared up at Terra.

Terra was breathing heavily. He was cradling the back of Aqua’s head, and it seemed that he was on the verge on removing what little space was still between them . . .

But then he pushed her away. “I’m going for a walk,” he said. “Both of you, stay here.”

He walked away and the door opened and closed again, leaving Aqua and Ven with nothing but silence.


	12. Chapter 12

She felt cold, hollow. Like someone had cut her up and scooped out everything inside. Certainly, they must have removed her heart because she couldn’t hear it beating. And the muscles in her leg, they must have hacked into those too, because they were wobbly and she couldn’t stand. Maybe they’d even given her a lobotomy, removed that part of her that distinguished between reality and dream, because this definitely didn’t feel like she was awake.

She sank dumbly back into the couch, eyes on the door that Terra had left through. To her, it seemed to split into two separate pictures. One: the closed door she saw now; the other: a picture of the door slamming while Terra stormed out.

She had never felt so small before.

She hugged her knees to her chest, laying her forehead upon them. She had never seen him so angry before, not even at the Master. And _she_ had caused it. She didn’t understand why he was so mad. She had just wanted to help . . .

The couch dipped as Ven plopped down next to her. He sighed, looping his arm around her.

“He’s just angry,” he said. “He didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, he did,” she said shortly. “He meant exactly what he said.”

Ven leaned back, feet kicking in the air. “Okay, he did, but not in that way. He went overboard.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “Did he? He’s right, isn’t he? I’m just in your way. I’m weak . . .”

It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of icy water over her head. Vanitas’s warning came back to her. Was he right? Was she really just a weakness to them?

But just as he had done for Terra, Ven said, “That’s not true. That’s not why we don’t want you here. It’s just dangerous, Aqua. I had some one-on-one time with Vanitas and yeah, he’s definitely after you. He was disappointed when he realized you weren’t with us.”

She frowned. Disappointed? Judging by what Vanitas had said to her, he should have been ecstatic to hear that.

“Aqua,” Ven said carefully, “what did you mean when you said we were walking into a trap?”

She told him everything. The words fell out of her like water rushing out of a dam, and she could barely control what she was saying. Ven listened patiently, sucking in his cheeks, growing tenser with each new fact she hammered him with.

There was an awkward pause afterwards, which Aqua broke by saying, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Ven hastily said, “I do! I’m just wondering how truthful he was being. I mean, I’m sure Vanitas wouldn’t be above lying.”

“You think that was the trap?”

“Could have been,” he said. “Maybe he was just trying to lure you out.”

She bit her lip. Now that she thought about it, it did seem like something he would do. It looked like Terra had been right all along.

“I should go home,” she said. She tried to stand, but Ven stopped her.

“Don’t leave now,” he said. “We should wait until Terra gets back.”

She nodded, mulling over Terra and his chaotic emotions. “He’s going to be really sorry, isn’t he? He always is. But,” she looked Ven straight in the eye, part of her hoping he would refute her next statement, “what he said, that’s exactly what he thinks. He expects us to follow him like some sort of general.”

“He’s just trying to protect us!” Ven protested loudly. He took a second to control himself, looking away from her. “Yeah, you’re right. He needs to be in control, but only so he can be sure that someone’s looking after us. Terra never said anything, but I know it was really hard to him to hand you over to Master Eraqus. He doesn’t trust anyone to take care of us.”

“Including ourselves,” she pointed out.

Ven sighed. “Vanitas scares him,” he said, “so, Terra’s being super-duper protective. Once things are over, he’ll calm down.”

“I hope so,” she said. “It’s hard to deal with him when he’s like this. It was fine in the beginning when I needed that kind of attention, but now . . . I feel like he’s smothering me.”

“Well, you do get the worst of it,” Ven said with a grin. “But that just because he loves you!”

“He loves both of us.”

“He loves you more.”

She coughed, covering up her squeak of embarrassment. Did Ven have to say it like that? Keeping her tone under tight control, she smiled and said, “I wouldn’t say that.”

Ven’s grin dipped a little. He looked a little disappointed, maybe even exasperated. “You are _so_ blind,” he said.

“What?”

Smiling easily, he rolled his eyes and hopped to his feet. “Come on, let’s check out our room!”

She took his offered hand and pulled herself up. “Our room?”

He laughed. “It don’t think the beds will be big enough for all of us, and do you really think Terra would let us take the couch?”

The bedroom, in her opinion, was fairly ordinary for a hotel. Which meant that Ven found it absolutely amazing. He burst the room and then swan-dove onto one of its two single beds, knocking a pillow onto the floor. Rubbing his cheek into the comforter, he made a contented noise and rolled onto his back.

“It’s so soft!” he exclaimed.

She walked over and ruffled his hair. “I guess this is my bed, then.”

“What?” He sprang up. “Why?”

She simply told him,” I’m older. I get to choose first.”

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I bet the other bed is better anyways. Race you to it!”

Even before he had finished speaking, he was flying through the air towards the other one. He rebounded off it, bouncing right to the edge, upon which he burrowed beneath the covers. He peered at her for a moment, like a dragon peeking out of its cave, then retreated into his little shelter. Soon, the neatly-laid sheets had been reduced to a giant ball.

She sat down on her bed, taking stock of the situation. The curtains could be drawn easily, and she could keep the lights on. The walls were beige, a fairly light colour, though a tad too dark for her tastes. It shouldn’t be too bad. She could do this.

She sat there for a few seconds more, then leaned over and clicked on a lamp next to the bed. The golden glow layered on top of the room’s main source of light. There, that was better.

Ven wriggled out of his protective ball. “See, Aqua? My bed’s _awesome_!”

She hit him in the face with a pillow.

* * *

The cool air was doing wonders for his temper. Terra took a deep breath, holding it for a couple of seconds before releasing it.  First, control the breathing. Then he would be able to control himself. It was a lesson Eraqus had taught him a very long time ago.

Somewhere, a lark was singing. In the shade of a broad-leafed tree, Terra sat, letting the gentle song wash over him. It seemed to soothe his frazzled soul, and with that mercy, he started to think about what had just transpired.

He’d lost control. That much was obvious. He shouldn’t have manhandled her, especially considering those awful blemishes on her neck. Ones that were, intentionally or not, placed by him. But at the same time, she should have listened to him. He had no illusions about the fact that having Aqua tag along would lead to disaster. If she would just stop questioning him and _listen_ things would be much easier. He was the oldest. It was practically written in the definition that it was his duty to protect them, and theirs to obey.

With that said, he was unsure whether or not to apologize. Aqua didn’t like to be yelled at and he had crossed a line with her, he knew that, but he was _right_. Sometimes, she just needed to shut up and obey him – Ven, too. Honestly, he would love nothing more than to toss them into a place that only he could find. Things would just be so easier.

His stomach grumbled. Hmm, how long had it been since he last ate? He could have been under Maleficent’s spell for days. He stretched, sniffing the air for some sort of tasty treat. Maybe he could buy some food for his friends too, use that as his apology.

He bought something – he didn’t know what in Hades it was, but it smelt good – and headed back to the hotel. Instead of just charging in like he usually would, he decided to play nice and knock. Anything to reduce the tension in what was about to come.

The door opened. “Oh hey, Terra!” Ven said. “We didn’t expect you back so soon.

“I brought food,” Terra said, lamely holding said food up.

“Uh, great.”

They stood around, both avoiding the other’s eyes. Finally, Terra sighed. Better get this over with. Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, he asked, “Where’s Aqua?”

Ven did not immediately tell him. Instead, the younger boy positioned himself in the center of the doorway, eyes narrowing. “Why do you ask?” he said.

“I need to speak to her.” Ven did not respond, so Terra clarified, “Properly.”

Ven chewed his lip. “Go easy on her,” he said. “She just wants to help.”

“I know. What happened before, it won’t happen again.”

Ven nodded and moved aside. As Terra passed, he murmured, “She’s not mad. She’s pretty much convinced herself you were right.”

He couldn’t stop a satisfied grunt.

She knew he was there, and he saw her bracing herself as he stepped inside the bedroom. He closed the door behind them, granting them a bit of privacy for what happened next. She was sitting on the bed, cheeks pinched in that way she told him that she knew she was in the wrong, but was prepared to argue just to make things difficult. It was a quirk that had drove him mad when they were younger. Now though, he liked to see that side of her. To him, it was proof that the effects of Silent Hill weren’t everlasting.

“I brought food,” he said.

“I heard”

And there she went. Being difficult. He sat down next to her, considering pulling her to him, but then figured that probably wasn’t the best idea.

He wanted to make things right, but he wasn’t entirely sure how. So, he waited, hoping that Aqua would start things off for him. But she didn’t. Instead, she kicked her legs, avoiding his stare, a signal that the ball was firmly in his court.

Well, here went nothing.

“Look, what happened today . . . I was way out of line. I’m really sorry.” He held his breath, hoping that the apology was all she was looking for.

She nodded, but refused to look at him. Not a good sign. Ven was wrong. She was at least moderately angry.

“I shouldn’t have said it like that,” he said. “I _definitely_ shouldn’t have said it like that. And I really, really shouldn’t have touched you. That’s the part that bugs me the most. I was acting like things were _your_ fault there while you were only trying to do what you thought was best.”

He groaned internally. The act of apologizing seemed to make things worse in his eyes, because now he could see exactly how wrong he had been.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I just –”

She laid a hand upon his knee, silencing him. “It’s okay, Terra,” she said. “I forgive you. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me.”

He sighed in relief. “Okay, that’s good.”

“I think I get what’s going on,” she went on. “You’re trying to protect me, and I need to listen to you because I’m fragile. I can’t be trusted to take care of myself.” Her eyes glistened. “Is that really what you think of me?”

He had absolutely no hesitation. “No. I think of you as someone who’s very important to me, and I know I would be devastated if you were ever hurt.”

Ah, that had been the right move. The tautness of her face diminished, betraying wary hope. “Is that true?”

“Of course. Now, come here.”

Without her permission, he engulfed her in a hug. But she didn’t fight it, instead leaning into him, winding her slender arms around him in turn. He held her close, burying his head in the top of her head and breathing deeply. He could have easily crushed her with his thick arms, but she remained, completely trusting. With his thumb, he stroked the back of her neck, tracing the length of her spine. Was now the time . . .?

No, not now. He’d wait until Vanitas was dealt with before he added that burden to her shoulders. Then they could have their happy ending. With Ven, too, naturally. Until then however, he would hold his silence. Keep his secrets.

The good ones, and the bad ones.

“Bet Ven’s listening at the door,” Terra murmured with a mischievous smile.

That ruined the moment. Aqua pulled out of his grasp, swatting him over the ear. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t you dare!”

“I’m daring!”

“Terra, I -!”

He covered her mouth, muffling her. Under his hand, he could feel her lips contort into a scowl, but he merely grinned innocently as she glared at him. He put a finger to his lips, then jerked his finger at the door and waggled his eyebrows.

Quietly, he summoned Earthshaker and spread a thin sheet of ice across the floor by the door. Then he slunk over there. Aqua’s expression made it clear that she didn’t approve, but she didn’t say anything.

Terra wrenched the door open, exposing Ven who immediately toppled forwards upon losing his support. He tried to regain his footing, probably would have too, only his feet couldn’t steady themselves on the ice. Instead, he continued to fall forwards, arms turning in vertical circles, and fell down an inch away from the bed.

Terra leaned down and ruffled his hair. “That’s what you get for eavesdropping, sport.”

“No one appreciates me,” Ven muttered. “By the way, what is that stuff? It’s spicy, and good!”

“I have no idea. You hungry, Aqua?”

* * *

Well, that seemed to have gone well. Arms crossed behind his head, Ven leaned back in his chair at the table, watching Aqua and Terra eat. Terra was just shovelling food into his mouth, eating so quickly it seemed like he hardly had time to breathe. Aqua ate more delicately, like a ‘proper human being’ as she had told Terra. Still, when the older boy wasn’t looking, Ven saw her smile fondly at him.

They almost had a problem when Terra realized there was no tea. Why that was a problem, especially considering he hardly drank it himself, no one but him knew. Apparently though, it most definitely was a problem and Terra was jittery for the next few minutes, casting sideways glances at an exasperated Aqua.

“It’s fine,” she was saying. “I can survive without tea for a day.”

And although it was almost certainly true, Terra seemed incredibly disgruntled. He gulped down a glass of water and then slammed the cup down, drumming his fingers against the tabletop.

“We could still go out and buy some,” he said. “It’s not too late.”

Aqua sighed. “Terra, stop. It’s fine.”

He grumbled, hunching over his plate.

They finished up and lacking anything else to do, just sat on the couch and basked in each other’s company. Well, that had been the original plan, at least. However, before Ven had even made contact with the fabric, Terra grabbed him. He had stretched himself out already, arms following the slope of the backrest, and somehow, Ven found himself sharing Terra’s lap with Aqua. Terra’s arms then moved from the backrest to their shoulders, and he proudly looked upon them like a father with his children.

“We never did find Princess Aurora, did we?” Terra remarked. “I mean, I did find her, but right after that was when Maleficent zapped me.”

Ven winced. He hadn’t even remembered why they had gone to the Enchanted Domain. “That’s true. So, what’s our next move?”

Terra shrugged. “We’ll figure it out later.” There was a bit of tension in his face, and Ven realized that Terra was lying. He was trying to keep Aqua from finding out where they were headed next.

Following Terra’s silent wishes, Ven changed the topic. They chatted about meaningless, trivial things for the rest of the evening, carefully disregarding the huge elephant in the room. At first glance, it seemed like a normal conversation between friends. But look for long enough, and it would become apparent that Terra kept scanning the room, on-guard for any encroaching threats. He wasn’t the only one. Aqua was getting nervous too, though Ven would bet that her fear had less to do with being attacked, and more to do with the time of day. It must have been terrible for her, to have to sleep in an unfamiliar place. Terra knew that too, and he generously offered to sleep on their room’s floor. She refused. Put-out, Terra fell silent, though he swiftly re-joined the conversation.

And finally, night came. Aqua, the first to retire for the night, tiptoed into her room, as wary as a rabbit that knew the fox was about. The boys watched her carefully, on high-alert for any sign that would signal a panic attack, ready to escort her if needed. But Aqua held it together, not without the help of a few deep breaths, and walked inside her room, closing the door afterwards.

Ven couldn’t be more proud of her.


	13. Chapter 13

It wasn’t even past midnight and already they’d had a problem. Firstly, there had been Ven’s hysteria over the fact that the beds lacked restraints. How the cops hadn’t been called to investigate during that freak-out, Terra would never know. Finally, though, he had managed to calm Ven down, and coaxed him into bed with the promise that he wouldn’t be sleepwalking tonight.

Naturally, an hour or so later, Ven had to prove him wrong. Thankfully, Ven hadn’t actually _done_ anything this time. Mostly, he just wandered around and studied the place. Then he had gone back to his bedroom, although not to his bed. He had gravitated towards Aqua’s instead, and stood by her bedside. And stared at her. Just stared. Finally, Terra had moved in to try and nudge Ven back towards bed, but he had hardly taken a step before Ven collapsed.

He had tucked Ven back into bed after that, ruffled his hair, then double-checked that Aqua was sleeping. Finally, Terra was free to sleep too, but he did so uneasily, Ven’s sleepwalking incident having rattled him more than he admitted. However, morning came without incident, and Aqua and Ven were perfectly unharmed when he went to check in on them.

So, he decided it was okay to go for a walk, see if he could find somewhere they could get breakfast. The streets were quiet at this time, with the only other people being a few merchants making their way to their stores. A sweet floral scent wafted through the air, no doubt due to the dozens of flower gardens planted throughout the town. In the near distance, a castle scraped the bottom of clouds, reminding him of home.

There were a few additional people that wandered outside as time passed. He passed by a gruff-looking, stubbly man sucking on a cigar, and exchanged a quick hello with a girl dressed in pink. Much like the aura of Radiant Garden, the inhabitants were friendly, welcoming, lulling him into a sense of safety.

Which meant that he missed the signs.

When he passed by the hooded stranger, he spared only a courtesy nod. He did not notice the stranger detach from the wall and follow him. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t have been that concerned if he did.

It wasn’t until they were on the fringes of town, alone, that the stranger took action. He did not attack though, merely opened his mouth.

“Terra, right?”

That was a male’s voice. Terra turned. The stranger waited patiently for his answer, his heavy black coat refusing to move in the wind.

“That’s me.” Terra’s eyes narrowed. Something seemed awfully familiar . . . “Can I help you?”

A pause. “Where’s Aqua?”

Now the claws came out. Terra went stiff, nostrils flaring. “Who are you?”

“So, she’s still at the hotel. That’s good to know.”

The stranger made a move. Maybe he meant to leave, maybe he was just itchy, but Terra exploded. “What do you want?”

His ragged breathes made his chest ache, but he didn’t care. This man, he was crossing a line and regardless of whether he knew it or not, he would pay. No one was allowed to threaten his friends.

“You should keep a better eye on her, Terra,” the stranger said. He held his hand up, as if expecting a handshake. “It’s dangerous for her out here.”

A warning, or a threat? It was hard to tell which it was. “Who are you?”

The cloak rippled as the stranger shrugged. “No one important.”

The stranger turned slightly, and a ray of sunlight breached the confines of his hood, highlighting a lock of silver hair . . .

“You,” Terra growled.

The stranger paused. “What?”

“You were at the Pridelands, weren’t you? You . . . .you _attacked Ven_!”

Could he have been wrong? Yes, it was possible, but the possibility didn’t even occur to him. He summoned Earthshaker and its tip hit the ground, making the entire world quake.

“You have one chance to tell me what you want with us,” Terra said. “One chance to have your life spared.”

The stranger did not accept his generous offer. Instead, he turned tail and fled.

Oh no. Not acceptable.

The darkness came to him, hungry for blood. He sent its energy to his legs, and propelled himself over the ground at a speed that nearly matched Ven. And if he was almost as fast as that speed demon, than he was a demigod compared to the stranger. It took him maybe half a second to clear the ten metres gap between them, and he brought his hand back, fist glowing black.

The stranger pivoted, surprisingly quick, and Terra’s fist just clipped an edge of his hood. Terra let his momentum carry him, spinning around with a vicious backfist that again, just barely missed his target. The stranger stepped back, hands held high in surrender.

Terra shouted, “Who are you?”

 When the stranger declined to respond, he thrust his keyblade forwards. This time, his reach would not be denied, and he heard the stranger gasp as he was winded. He swung again, sending the stranger stumbling back, where he nearly tripped over his own feet.

By that time, it appeared the stranger had enough. When Terra charged again, he did not flee. Instead, his legs bent, waiting.

And when Terra was about to bring his keyblade down, the stranger sprung forwards. There was a flash of purple, and then a keyblade appeared in the stranger’s hand. Long and thin, Terra only saw its glimmering edge as it approached –

Pain. His left leg buckled, drawing him off course, making him keel over at the waist. There was a narrow cut on his side, just between a couple of his ribs. He touched the wound, staring in confusion at the blood that came off on his fingers. Still hunched over, he glared at the one who had caused it.

He stood not far away, hesitating to attack. The hood had fallen back a little, revealing the stranger’s lower jaw. His keyblade was in his back hand, and his feet were positioned as though he had just slid to a stop. Terra zeroed in on that keyblade, studying it, confirming that it was the same keyblade the lion had attacked Ven with.

“You made a big mistake coming here,” Terra said.

The stranger said, “If this is a mistake, than it’s the least of them.”

There was some rolling, potent undercurrent to his tone. Familiar, it was. It struck a chord inside Terra, because he had heard that same emotion in many of Xion’s words: hatred. But it was not just any kind of hate, not the kind of hate that Terra carried around in his heart for Vanitas. This hate spelled out defeat, mixed in with acceptance.

“What do you want?” Terra asked.

“Where’s Aq-?”

“Not happening!” he snarled.

He lunged, swinging his keyblade desperately. The stranger’s words had only confirmed what Terra had suspected: this person worked for Vanitas. He _must_ be. Why else would he be asking for Aqua?

Again, the stranger dodged, countering with a quick thrust. But unlike him, Terra didn’t need to dodge. He brought Earthshaker up, stopping the strike flat, trapping the keyblade afterwards between his keyblade and his arm. The flat end of the blade dug into his skin, but Terra only had mind for the nervousness he saw in the other’s clenched jaw.

The stranger’s keyblade flared, consumed by flames, but their touch was cold, not hot. A construct of darkness, then; still dangerous, but not so much to a darkness user as powerful as himself.

Terra smiled bitterly, then let his eyes go gold.

He smashed his forehead right into the other’s face, feeling something – a nose, maybe – give way underneath his skull. He drew back swiftly, while the stranger was still recovering, and socked him right in the face. The hood did not fall, so Terra could not see what sort of damage he had caused, but his knuckles came back bloody.

The darkness erupted from Terra, guided by a swipe of his hand. The stranger was propelled through the air, his hood defying gravity and _still_ covering his face. He landed hard – Terra heard the crack – on his hip, rolling to a stop.

“Ugh . . .” The stranger managed to raise himself to his arms and knees. He clenched his ribs with one arm.

“Giving up?” Terra said. “Thought you would have put up a better fight than that.”

The stranger did not speak, but reached into his cloak. From around his neck, he pulled something out, however, his angle was such that Terra couldn’t see what it was. Nor did he really care.

The stranger’s hand curled into a fist.

And he was gone. Terra blinked, shocked, letting his keyblade drop. What had -?

The air grew hot behind him. He couldn’t react in time, and the keyblade tore through his back, leaving a scar from the bottom of his shoulder blade right down to his waist. He cried out, spinning, only catching a black and purple blur as the stranger whizzed past him.

Suddenly, he was on Terra’s _other_ side. This time, Terra blocked, but when their blades met, a bright spark flashed between them, blinding him, leaving him defenseless as the stranger stopped short and attacked again.

Another cut to add to the rest. This time, on his upper leg. Terra gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn sharply, tracing the stranger’s path as he moved away, then turned for another round. But just as the turn finished, a copy – nay, two copies – split from him, leaving Terra at a loss to know which was real.

The stranger and his two afterimages charged, keeping their distance from each other as to force Terra to choose. He took a different option. He stabbed his keyblade into the ground, cracking the cobblestone, sending his magic burning through the shaft where it made stone rise around him in a small circle. The wall barely stirred as the stranger crashed into it.

He charged up a shot-lock, and then shot at the place where he heard the stranger crash. The shotlock tossed that section of the wall through the air, taking the stranger with it. He quickly identified which piece of rubble the stranger laid under, then bounded over to that, summoning a mass of darkness to assist with his next move.

The darkness blasted the stranger like a blowtorch. Terra kept it going as long as he was able, making sure the stranger was finished. And he was. When Terra finally ran out of energy and had to stop, the stranger didn’t move. He remained there, limp on the ground, his breathing harsh.

 _Serves you right_ , Terra thought. The stranger had brought it on himself for helping Vanitas. He had been threatening Aqua and Ven, had wanted to hurt them . . .

A deep voice echoed in his mind.

**_Kill him_.**

The darkness pooled around his fingers, sharpening them into claws. He raised his hand, eyeing his fallen foe’s neck . . .

Bright light blinded him.

He howled, eyes tearing up, feeling like his very flesh was sizzling. The pain forced him to abandon his prey and he tore away from the light, hunching in a corner like an animal. Through his fingers, he peered at this new threat, finding a figure that was very short, very small, but clearly had an abundance of light at his command.

“What’s going on?” the figure exclaimed.

His voice was high, almost comedic in its tenor. There was something almost unreal about it, but it fit the figure himself perfectly. Terra had never seen such a being before. He was _furry_ , and his ears were almost as big as his head. To put it bluntly, he looked like a mouse.

“Who are you?” Terra asked, too bemused to remember to be angry.

“I’m Mickey,” the mouse-like being said. “Who are you, and why are ya trying to kill this man?”

“He attacked me!” Terra protested. “Why are you getting up in my face?”

Sternly, Mickey said, “Because I saw a defenseless man about to be killed.”

“He’s trying to hurt my friends!” Terra shouted. “He’s hardly ‘defenseless’.”

**_The mouse is in the way . . ._ **

Mickey still looked uncertain. “Are ya sure? It looked to me like you were the aggressor.”

Terra growled. Stupid mouse. Of course he would take this stranger’s side . . .

But Terra didn’t answer to him. He didn’t answer to anyone. He brought his keyblade up, brandishing it in a clear threat, and Mickey responded in turn by summoning one of his own. It was a flashy keyblade, decorated with images of grey stars all along its shaft, and a star and moon emblem marking the head of the blade. Mickey held it diagonally, glaring at him.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he said, “but I’m not gonna let you kill this man.”

Terra clenched his fists, veins popping out.

**_The mouse is in the way. Kill him_ **

He raised his hand, darkness gathering –

The stranger suddenly twitched, and rolled sideways into a portal.

“No!” Terra shouted, running past the startled Mickey. By the time he got there, the stranger was already gone. Fuming, he turned back to Mickey. “Thanks a lot.”

Eyes narrowed dangerously, Mickey said nothing and dismissed his keyblade.

Terra groaned and rubbed his head. Okay, so the stranger was still on the loose. That meant he could still come after his friends. That meant they were in danger and . . .

He had to get to them right now.

He ran through the streets to the hotel, nearly ripping the door off its hinges. From the table, Aqua and Ven looked up at him.

“We saved you breakfast!” Ven announced, waving a half-eaten banana.

Terra said nothing, and marched inside.

Aqua said, “Terra, is everything okay?”

“We’re taking you home,” he said. “Right now.”

* * *

“I should give Eraqus a piece of my mind,” Terra hissed. “I gave him one, simple instruction and . . .”

“Terra, we don’t have time for that!” Ven protested. Having forced his way between Terra and the castle, he was now trying to shove the larger apprentice back, and failing miserably. “We got to go stop Vanitas!”

“He’s right, Terra,” Aqua said, laying her hand on his arm. “You can fight with the Master later.”

Terra sulked. “Fine. We’ll go. But you _stay here_. Understand?”

“I know, Terra,” she said. “I already said I’m sorry.”

A slight frowned tugged at Terra’s lips. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said.

“I know.”

They said their last farewells, and then Terra and Ven took off into the air, disappearing among the stars. She stared after them for a while, wishing she could be there. Then, with a quiet sigh, Aqua walked into the castle.

Her Master did not greet her at the door. She didn’t see him when she walked down the halls. The whole castle was oddly quiet, as if mourning. She bit her lip, knowing there were going to be some big consequences for her flight. Maybe though, he wouldn’t be so mad when she told him what Vanitas had said in her dream.

She knocked on his office door. “Master?”

No answer.

She checked his room next, then the kitchen. Again, no sign of him. It occurred to her shortly after that she hadn’t heard anything from Sora either. That, by itself, wouldn’t have been worth worrying about. Combined with the grave silence however, it was positively eerie.

She finally walked to the Throne Room, having run low on places to check. Thankfully, when she opened the door, she could see a shadow of a hand from the center throne.

She ran inside. “Master, I’m back. I’m sorry for –”

She stopped. Stepped back. Summoned Rainfell.

The throne was indeed occupied.

But not by her Master.


	14. Chapter 14

Time had stopped. Her ears rang shrilly, as if an explosion had gone off right beside her, an explosion that may have well been the rupturing of her courage, her mind and anything else that lent itself to rational thought. She was filled to the brim with overwhelming energy, yet at the same time was unable to move. Even her mouth had frozen while it was halfway open.

High above her, the intruder stirred, triggering a fresh wave of wild terror. Bile pooled at the back of her throat, mixing with thin and salty saliva, a noxious mixture that trickled down into her stomach even as it tied itself into knots.

This couldn’t be happening. No, she had to be dreaming. This had to be a dream, it had to be a dream . . .

Perched on the throne’s armrest, a twisted raven croaked, quieted by its master’s touch. The gloved hand stroked the bird’s feathers before curling around the end of the armrest, squeezing it with barely suppressed excitement. Even that was unnecessary for her to read the figure’s thoughts; gleaming gold eyes told her everything, not to mention the smirk that made his face look like it was carved out of stone.

 “I’ve been waiting for you,” Vanitas said.

She moved further away. “What are you doing here? Where’s my Master? Where’s Sora and Kairi?” Hysteria lined her words, becoming more pronounced with each syllable that left her lips.

“Gone,” Vanitas said, the word echoing around the room like the slam of a gavel. “It’s just us here.”

Her eyes widened. Gone? Was Vanitas saying that he . . . that he . . .

She was going to be sick.

Tears gathered in the back of her eyes. “Why?” she whispered.

“Not like that!” Vanitas said, the words so sharp it stopped her tears before they fell. He had sounded almost insulted. “I mean gone as in ‘not here’.”

Better, though not by much. Things still didn’t make sense. “Why would he leave?” Aqua asked. She swallowed, an image of her brutalized Master flashing behind her eyes.

He chuckled. “To look for you, duh! Last time his students left together, they all came back a little funny . . . apparently he wasn’t so keen on a repeat. So yeah, he’s gone! I guess he found somewhere else for Sora and Kairi to stay.”

So, Sora and Kairi had been spared any further hardships. At least there was that mercy. But she found it hard to be grateful when she was facing down Vanitas alone, right here, right now. To a stranger, he didn’t look dangerous, not with that wide grin and enthusiasm in his voice. However, she could see how unbalanced that smile was, knew just how quickly that could give way to violence.

“Why are you here?” For once, anger lined her voice as she dropped any pretence of friendliness. While she spoke, she inched towards the door.

“Why not?” he asked. “This place,” he made a sweeping gesture to the entire room, “it’s my home away from home. Of course, it does drain me to be away from Silent Hill, and that’s rather annoying.”

He groaned softly, letting his head rap against the back of his throne. His beady-eyed raven continued to track her. When she was nearly at the exit, it shrieked, causing its master to frown. Casually, Vanitas summoned his keyblade and twirling it in his hands, he pointed it at the exit. A beam of light flashed between them, and then a barrier rose over the door, sparking with power.

She paled. He knew she was trying to get away. That couldn’t lead to anything good.

She watched as the darkness engulfed Vanitas and his raven, leaving the throne empty. Hardly a second after, a similar burst of flames appeared not far from her. Vanitas stepped through, his expression neutral now. The raven was nowhere to be seen.

It dawned on her then just exactly what kind of peril she was in. Before, with Vanitas sitting on her Master’s throne, it had felt unreal, like she was talking to him through a glass wall. Now, the realization that he was here, that this was _real_ and happening to her made her choke. Her heart nearly tore itself out of her chest, so great were its spasms.

“St-stay away!” she demanded.

Vanitas didn’t even hesitate to walk towards her.

Her breath hitched. She backed right into a wall. And he continued to get closer.

“I mean it! Don’t get any closer!”

There seemed to be some force between them, pushing them apart, so that Aqua felt like she was being ground into the wall.  Her fear collided with Vanitas’s quiet calm, carving out a crackling aura of tension around them.

“There’s no need to be scared, Aqua. Things will be right now,” he said. He held out his hand, inviting her to join him.

A ridiculous offer. She shook her head frantically, her spine pressing up against the wall. He had her boxed in, alone, and she . . . she . . .

 _This is real_ , she realized, _and that means Rainfell . . ._

Her keyblade appeared in a surge of white, brighter than she was used to, as if the keyblade was trying to lend her courage.

“Get back.” Her voice was a little steadier, and hearing that made her brave enough to scowl.

“Aqua, what are you doing?” He spoke as if he had just spotted her trying to pry open a can with a crowbar.

“I’m leaving,” she said. “Right now. So, stay away.”

He groaned. “Are you really playing this game with me? Look, just put away the keyblade and come here.”

“No.” She shook her head again. “I’m going.”

“Aqua, put the keyblade away . . . _Hey!_ ”

As she dove towards the door, intending on breaking down the barrier, he shot a flare right at her feet. It threw her off-balance, causing her to pitch sideways, and he immediately pressed his advantage. She found herself up against the wall again, this time not by choice. He had her wrists pinned, leaving Rainfell useless.

The inch of space between them felt muggy and hot. She turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut. It was her worst dreams realized; she was cornered and he was _touching_ her. She whimpered as his breath disturbed her hair. She wanted him off, _now_ , but was terrified of moving.

“What’s with you?” Vanitas demanded. “Are you still mad over what I said to you last time? Look, so I may have stretched the truth a bit, I’m sorry. I just needed to get you off this world so Eraqus would leave.”

“Get off,” she begged.

“Huh?”

She nearly burst into tears when he touched her face. “ _Stop touching me! Get off!_ ”

The pressure on her lessened, but by no means did he let her go. “Why are you so anti-personal today?” he murmured.

He poked her suddenly in the neck. Right where the bruise from Terra’s hand laid.

“What the hell?” He freed her wrists only to grab her chin instead, wrenching it up so he could examine her throat. “What . . . who did this?”

Her instinct was actually to answer, not hold it back, if only in hopes that he would let go of her. She didn’t, however; if Vanitas were to learn the truth, she knew it would come back to haunt her.

“Who did this?” Vanitas said again.

Her teeth clamped together with so much force that they started to ache. She wasn’t going to make a sound, she wouldn’t . . .

She choked as he stroked her lower jaw.

“Look at me, Aqua,” he said.

She shook her head.

Vanitas sighed. “Come on, Aqua, open your eyes. Tell me who did this.”

She managed to force out, “N-no.”

“Aqua . . .”

“No!” she cried again. This time, a tear slipped down her face. “No, no –”

“Look at me.”

She couldn’t quite place it, but there was something different in the way he had spoken. It was almost angry. She debated for a few moments, but her fear of what he could do quickly outweighed her fear of looking at him, and she cautiously opened her eyes. He was right there. Right in front of her, face twisted with some cousin of rage. Her eyes were reflected deep within his gold ones, and she could see just how bloodshot they were.

“Good, now tell me who did this to you,” he said.

Her chest tightened. She shook her head.

He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. “Fine.”

He grabbed her chin again, this time bringing it down. He still had his eyes fixed on hers, and though she tried, she found she couldn’t look away. His face drew nearer, his forehead tapping against hers, sending a pulse of electricity through her, and she gasped. She recognized this; it was the same thing he had done right before he made her smash her Wayfinder.

His forehead met hers again, this time remaining in contact. She could feel it, deep within her heart: something cold – dark – uncoiling.

The connection . . . it was _still there_.

Something suddenly snapped through her, warm, sharp. With an audible crack, Vanitas broke away from her, rubbing his chest. Now, it was plain that he was truly enraged. His teeth were bared in a snarl, golden eyes narrowed into slits.

“Ventus,” he growled. “I’m going to kill that bastard.”

Normally, hearing Vanitas say that would infuriate her; however she was a bit preoccupied right now. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she was free -

His hair touched her face. She jerked backwards so violently that her head smashed into the wall, leaving her dazed.

“Aqua!” He grabbed her before she fell, and lowered her to the ground. “What are you doing?”

Her mind came back to her with one resounding thought: Vanitas was touching her.

She kicked, nailing him in the chest, sending him flying back with a whoosh of lost air. And while he recovered, she scrambled to the exit, bringing her keyblade up in a desperate attempt to break the barrier.

It fought back. Hard. Her bones rattled in her sockets, making her very marrow ache. Still, she persisted, forcing more magic into the keyblade.

The barrier broke very suddenly, dissipating like a puff of smoke. She panted, drained, and then her intuition flared up, guiding her to swing around and cast a powerful Aeroga spell, interrupting Vanitas mid-leap. He stabbed his keyblade into the ground, using that to keep from being swept away, and she dashed out the door and ran.

She had a head start, but she’d forgotten about his teleporting.

The castle had never had, nor needed very wide halls, so they were easy for him to block. All he had to do was teleport in front of her, hold his arms and keyblade out, and that was that. She skidded to a stop and before she could even think about turning back, he raised a barrier behind her.

“It’s a good thing I’m in a very mellow mood,” Vanitas said. “Now, put the keyblade away and we can talk like civilized people.”

As if he would know what that meant. She backed away, holding her keyblade in both hands to try and keep it steady. Rainfell thrummed, almost growling at the boy before her.

He clicked his tongue. “Put it away. Now.”

She would not dismiss Rainfell. She knew that the second she lost hold of her keyblade, it was over. And he . . . what right did he have to come here and demand that? This was her home, not his. He didn’t belong here.

 _Just take a deep breath . . ._ She tried, but her body hadn’t quite caught up with her mind. Forget breathing deeply – she was struggling just to breathe. Eventually it escaped her, and it felt like she had hacked up part of her lungs.

She glanced up. The halls in the castle had never been wide. But they were very tall.

She let loose a quick light spell, not intending to hurt, simply to distract. While that went off and the world was still blinded, she cast Aero and propelled herself into the air, tumbling through the air over him. Then, she ducked into the nearest room, the kitchen, and then charged through that and into the dining room. At that point, a sudden insight hit her and instead of going to the next door, she threw herself behind a statue and waited.

Sure enough, the door slammed open and Vanitas ran in. The steps stopped and Aqua held her breath, sure that he would hear the frantic pounding of her heart. But his footsteps led away, to the other side of the room, and the door clicked open and close as he left the room.

She had lost him. For now. No doubt, Vanitas would turn the entire castle inside-out in his search for her. Now, she only had to avoid him and get outside.

Easier said than done.

It took much longer than she would have liked to gather the courage to step out of her hiding place. Half of her was sure that despite what she had seen, Vanitas would be waiting for her the second she revealed himself. This was why instead of just stepping out, she dove and rolled to the next statue in line, peeking out afterwards. No Vanitas.

Her one advantage was that she knew the castle’s layout better than him. Though it wasn’t much since the castle didn’t have anything in the way of secret passages – its method of defense was something much more complex. As for escape though, the front door was out. Vanitas was probably waiting for her there. It would be best to go out a window, somewhere she was sure Vanitas wasn’t hanging around . . .

Ven’s room. There was no way Vanitas could stand that place.

She entered the hallway, looking up and down its long corridor. For once in her life, she wished it had more turns; it would so much easier for Vanitas to find her like this. Again, she repeated to herself the idea that Vanitas was lurking at the front door and forced herself to move, cringing as the tap of her shoe against the ground echoed. It may have actually been a very quiet sound, but any risk was too much for her.

Rainfell hummed then, drawing her attention. Idly, she examined the keyblade, thinking.

Oh. She had an idea.

She mounted her glider, and sailed through the halls. The turns were tighter than she was used to, but she compensated by keeping her body close to the metal. There was still the rustle of her clothing as the wind battered it, but overall, she was much stealthier than before.

She passed by empty room after empty room after empty room. One of the rooms she passed was her Master’s, and on her way by, she caught a glimpse inside. The bed sheets were strewn, the closet still open, and one shirt only halfway on its hanger. It appeared he had left in a great hurry.

She entered Ven’s room, finding it just how she remembered. It was messy, the younger apprentice having forgotten to clean up before he set off on his adventure. So typical. No doubt, had she stayed, she would have eventually taken upon herself to clean it for him.

Ven’s room was on the bottom floor, so she simply opened the window and hopped outside. Just as she had predicted, Vanitas was nowhere to be found. She stifled a laugh of relief; that could come later, when she was safely out of his range.

Wait, what was that?

There was something sitting in the grass, maybe about the height of her knee. It had a slender, purple body, with triangular red eyes and two antennae whittled into an odd shape. It stared at her; she stared at it.

Two portals opened on either side of her, and then more of the things came rushing out.

They went for her legs, snapping, claws piercing through clothes and skin. The first few she destroyed with their keyblade, watching with dread as they broke apart into a cloud of darkness. There were too many though, and thinking quickly, she cast a full barrier spell. The purple creatures pawed at it, trying to break through. She worked her lips into a frown, and then sent the pieces of the barrier shooting out, scattering the creatures among the grass. Some of them faded instantly, other rolled back to their feet.

Out of nowhere, an arc of dark energy slammed into her stomach, smashing her against the castle’s wall. Wait, the wall? It couldn’t be, she hadn’t been forced back that far . . .

She looked up and saw red eyes.

A huge hand closed on her shoulder, sliding down to take control of her dominant wrist. She whirled around, trying to yank herself free, but this new threat wouldn’t be denied. It was a huge thing, brown, like one of those apes she had seen in Deep Jungle – not a comparison that invited anything good. Before she could even think about her next course of energy, she was attacked from behind, forced straight into the creature’s chest.

 _He brought his monsters_ here _?!_

It took advantage of her stunned state and spun her. One thick arm wound around her body, squishing her against the monster; the other remained in control of her wrist, twisting it until she was forced to drop her keyblade. It fell with a loud clang, and like that had been a signal, the small monsters piled onto her, grabbing at her arms and legs, stretching as they held them still.

Her back to the creature, defenseless, she was forced to face Vanitas.

His keyblade still oozed with the darkness he had used to attack her. With a disdainful sniff, he dismissed his weapon, glaring at her.  “Looks like this is going to take some work,” he said.

Though she was held tight against the creature’s body, she felt cold. Exactly what was going to take him some work?

Was he going to possess her again?

He snapped his fingers. “Let’s go.”

He began walking to the castle’s front doors and the ape-like creature followed, dragging her and the little monsters along. She was caught fast in their grip, like a mouse in an eagle’s talons, and could only wait as she was carried closer to her doom.

“Why are you here?” she whispered. What she really wanted to say was ‘ _Why haven’t you taken me back to Silent Hill yet?_ ’ but she didn’t just in case it gave him ideas.

“I told you, this is like my home away from home,” he said. “Silent Hill’s my real home though, and a couple of days ago, I had the brilliant idea to bring them together!”

“Together?” she said hoarsely.

“Yeah!” They were walking into the castle now. She had no idea where he was taking her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, desperate for information. Even if she couldn’t use it, maybe she could somehow tell Terra or Ven . . .

“You don’t know too much about this place, do you?” Vanitas asked. “Guess Eraqus was waiting until you were a Master . . . of course, Xehanort never cared whether I was a Master or not.”

She said nothing, figuring he would continue.

He didn’t disappoint. “Haven’t you wondered why Master Eraqus never leaves this world? It’s simple, really. This world sits on the border between light and darkness, and Eraqus is the only thing keeping from falling on either side. While he’s around to defend it, the place remains stable. Now that he’s gone though, you just need a little push to force this world onto one side or another . . .”

“Vanitas, just what are you trying to do?” Her voice broke in several places, but she was much too worried to care.

He grinned back at her, and then pushed open a door.

She found herself carried into the Throne Room again. It didn’t look any different than before. There was no trace that there had been any scuffle in here. The creatures holding her remained with her at the sidelines, watching as their master strode into the center. Vanitas summoned his keyblade, then stabbed it into the ground, doing nothing for a long while.

Then, slowly, the pillar holding the center throne started to glow. And there, in the center of that light, a gold shape appeared.

A gold keyhole.

Her hair may have very well stood on end. “V-Vanitas?”

He smirked. “Don’t worry, Aqua. Things are going to be great!”

He aimed his keyblade at the keyhole. The two connected in a beam of light, and there was a booming click –

The darkness rushed in.


	15. Chapter 15

“Back here again, huh?” Ven said.

“Yeah.” Terra nodded. “We should at least try to figure out what happened last time.”

They stood before the massive castle in the Enchanted Domain, which hadn’t escaped without damage from whatever had occurred there before. There was still the hole in the doors that Terra remembered creating, but beyond that was damage that he did not recall. The walls inside the castle were burned, scarred in no comprehendible pattern. There were similar marks in the floor too, and a giant crater by the side.

“Wow, what happened?” Ven asked.

“That’s what we’re hoping to find out,” Terra said.

Distantly, he wondered what had happened to Prince Phillip. Last he recalled, he had left the man in this room while he chased after what he now realized to be a fake Ven (why did he always fall for that?). There was no sign of the man now, but if he had been in this room when this damage had been done . . .

“Stay close to me,” Terra said. “Maleficent’s dangerous.”

“She’s the dragon that attacked us. Did you know that?”

“I had an idea, yeah.”

They walked through the same door that Terra had chased the fake Ven through. Unlike the connected room, this place bore no damage, save a few muddy hoof prints from the boars he had seen before. He stared at the spot where he had ‘rescued’ Maleficent, and scowled.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” he admitted. “Maleficent led the entire way.”

“Wait, hold up!” Ven held his hands up. “You let Maleficent lead you somewhere? I thought you knew she was the dragon!”

“Not at first. I thought she was Merryweather!” Terra protested. “I didn’t know she was evil.”

“You mean the fact that she had the same colours as the dragon didn’t tip you off?”

“ . . . No.”

Ven sighed and shook his head. “You’re hopeless.”

Before Terra could come up with what would have probably been a laughably pathetic retort, he caught a whiff of darkness. He stiffened, sniffing like a dog, summoning his keyblade. Ven gave a start, then called his, standing back to back with his larger friend.

“What did you-?”

“Shh!”

They waited in silence, neither exactly sure what they awaited. Terra had his eyes closed, finding himself falling into the meditative state Eraqus had shown him long ago.

 _Not all things must be seen,_ Eraqus had told him. _Often, sight is the most easily deceived of our senses. Even a newborn animal knows to trust more than its eyes._

Terra’s foot slid backwards, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet. Ven continued to press up against him, stiff-legged, but getting better as time passed. Terra couldn’t smell the darkness anymore, not over the lingering scent of cloth and smoke, but there was no mistaking what he had sensed before.

_Listen to the world around you, Terra . . ._

Ven’s breathing was in time with his. Earthshaker was perfectly balanced in his hands, its voice silent in his mind. He frowned, head swinging from side to side, feeling like there was something lurking just on the fringes of his mind.

_. . . what seems out of place?_

Above him, something creaked.

He whirled around, tackling Ven to the ground just as the roof above them was torn apart. Through the gap, came a widening stream of green flames, and just beyond that, a sleek black snout. Terra glanced up, saw the fire approaching, and rolled out of the way, clutching Ven to his chest. Ven, not to be outdone, squirmed until he could aim Wayward Wind properly.

“Aero!”

The wind spell split the stream of fire in half, and . . . did nothing else.

Raising his eyebrow, Terra said, “Uh Ven, was there a point to that?”

As the spell ended, Ven winced and said, “I pictured it differently.”

“Right.”

There was no more time to make fun of Ven’s choice of attack. The dragon retreated, only to smash through another part of the roof and spit flames again. This time, they leapt out of the way, Ven charging up a shot-lock and Terra eyeing the furniture around him.

This time, Ven did some damage but only a little, for the once the shot-lock made contact, the dragon hid behind the roof again. Ven tried to bore through it, but shot-locks weren’t really meant for blasting through rock.

No, that was Terra’s job.

 He looked at the edges of the holes the dragon had made, picking out a piece of stone that looked ready to collapse. Magnera quickly brought it down, exposing what seemed to be a wing.

He used Magnera to bring that down too, pinning it to the castle’s roof, and shouted, “Ven, now!”

Now, _that_ worked. The dragon’s roar made the walls tremble. Connected to it by his spell, Terra could feel the wing flexing, trying to curve away from the shot-lock and break free. He held on as long as he could, but hey, he was trying to pin down a freaking dragon! So it wasn’t his fault when the dragon broke free moments later.

As the shadow of the dragon’s wing disappeared, Terra quickly made his decision. He grabbed Ven by the scuff of his shirt, jumped onto his glider and shot towards the hole.

Just as he passed through it, the dragon’s head appeared again. The jaws opened, liquid green flame pooling in the back. Gritting his teeth, Terra leapt off the glider with Ven, landing on the roof, and the keyblade continued to soar obediently straight into the mouth of the dragon’s mouth.

The fire never came. The dragon gagged, whipping her head to the left where she spat out Terra’s keyblade, which was now sleek with a mixture of saliva and blood. He scooped it up, fighting not to puke as his fingers too became slippery and wet.

Both parties waited, wanting the other to make the first move. When that failed, the dragon growled in annoyance, raising her head high. Yet she still did not attack. Instead, her form collapsed, outline wavering like a body of water before shrinking. The wings folded back into her sides, fusing to become a dark cloak. The snout disappeared though the horns remained, much smaller and perched on her head like a crown.

The sorceress swiped her hand through the air, pale fingers curling around the shaft of a still-materializing staff. “You two,” she declared, “are more trouble than I would have imagined.”

“Good,” he sneered.

He glowered at the woman before him, fuming over how easily she had fooled him before. In fact, he was so engrossed with picturing her with his keyblade sticking out of her chest, that he had completely forgotten about his mission until Ven demanded, “Where’s Princess Aurora?”

“Princess Aurora?” Maleficent laughed. “What use would you have for a husk such as her?”

“Hey, she’s not a husk!” Ven shouted. Immediately after, he turned and hissed, “Terra, what does that mean?”

“It means that Princess Aurora no longer has her heart,” Maleficent said (“I didn’t ask you!” Ven cried). “She is no more than a corpse, deaf to all that surrounds her.”

“Like Kairi,” Ven whispered. Terra blinked. That made sense now that he thought about it; Vanitas did seem to have been involved in both of their cases.

“And to whom do I owe this wonderful turn of events?” Maleficent said, smile sharp enough to draw blood. “Why, to none other than your fellow keyblader.”

To Terra’s horror, she pointed directly at him.

Ven said, “Terra, what is she talking about?”

“I . . .” His mouth worked uselessly. Though he, too, had no idea what Maleficent was talking about, the words refused to come out. There was a drop of dread in his stomach, nurtured by the lengthening silence.

Maleficent said, “Since Terra seems to be temporarily mute, I shall explain for you. Your friend here, on my command, brought me the heart of the princess.”

“Terra would never do that!” Ven shouted, hand curling into a fist.

Terra wanted to add his own voice to his defense, but once again, he was struck dumb. A phrase, spoken too by this sorceress, boomed in the bowels of his mind, and what seemed to be monochrome colouring, he saw snatches of a scene. Him, raising his keyblade. A slumbering princess. Then a glowing orb, passing into Maleficent’s waiting hands.

Was she right?

“The truth is always a hard thing to accept,” Maleficent said, “especially among the dearest of friends. It’s a shame you don’t believe me, Ventus, for he agreed so readily too.”

“I didn’t agree to anything!” Terra snapped, still unsure about his role in this unfolding scheme.

“Yeah, you’re just trying to trick us!” Ven said.

“Perhaps,” she said, “but if that is so, then how did I obtain this heart?”

She held her hand up, fingers uncurling like a blossoming flower. In the center of her palm, hovering just above, was a white orb. Ven started forwards, only to be held back by Terra. He knew that taking it from her was going to much harder than simply marching forwards.

Her fingers closed over the heart again, making it vanish. “A weapon that can unlock the hearts of men . . . such a power I find most useful. I extend this offer to both of you: join me, and we shall embrace the most glorious of futures.”

Ven and Terra glanced at each other.

“Is she serious?” Ven whispered.

“I think so.” To Maleficent, he shouted, “No way!”

“A shame,” Maleficent said, speaking as if they had merely turned down an offer for tea. “Then I will not delay you. Your princess slumbers within that spire.” She pointed at a huge keep behind her. “Go to her. I have no further use for her. Or this world.”

Laughing manically, darkness rose up around her and Maleficent vanished. Once she was gone, Ven ran up to the spot where she had been, poked the roof with his shoe, and then jumped up and down, checking that she wouldn’t reappear.

“She’s gone. She wasn’t very smart, was she?” he scoffed. “I mean she tried to convince me that you stole Princess Aurora’s heart. It’s kind of funny, actually . . . Terra?”

Terra was carefully avoiding his younger friend’s eyes. Had Maleficent been telling the truth?

“Terra, she’s lying, right?”

Truthfully, he said, “I don’t know. I could have done a lot of things while I was unconscious or whatever. I mean, I attacked you two, didn’t I? Maybe I did do it.”

He had been staring at the ground, so it came as a surprise when Ven suddenly appeared in his vision.

“You didn’t do it!” Ven said fiercely. “If you did it while you were unconscious, then it was because of that weird heartless thing. It had nothing to do with you.”

There was a seed of anger in his heart, which made no sense since Ven was defending him. He buried it behind a soft smile, and placed his hand on Ven’s shoulder in a show of camaraderie.

“Let’s go find the princess,” he suggested.

They flew to the keep, jumping inside the highest window. Just as Terra remembered, Princess Aurora was sleeping in the room, but she wasn’t alone. Prince Phillip was crouched by her side, holding her hand within his own. He delicately stroked it, then bowed his head, touching the hand with his forehead. He looked a little battered, as if he had been tossed around a bit, but otherwise unharmed.

Phillip did not notice their presence until Terra cleared his throat. Then the prince half-stood, hand on the pommel of his sword, before he registered whom it was that stood behind him. Still, his eyes remained hooded with suspicion, and Terra had the feeling that Maleficent hadn’t only spoken to them.

“I see you found your friend,” Phillip said.

Terra wasn’t sure how to respond. The memories of journeying here with Phillip were fresh, but Maleficent had pretended to be his friend, hadn’t she? Maybe he was pretending too, using him in an attempt to get at Ven . . .

The light seemed to fall on Phillip in a new way, highlighting the sharp planes of his face. It was not just that either, but the look in his eyes took on a new meaning. They were a bit too focused – _predatory_ – on Ven. And the sword! Terra had seen him move to grab that, too.

A surge of defensive rage rushed through him. This was another trick; another enemy trying to take his friend away -

Ven stepped forwards before Terra could stop him. “I’m Ven. Nice to meet you!” Smiling, he held out his hand.

Phillip shook it. “Prince Phillip. I’m glad to see you’re unharmed.”

Beaming, Ven glanced back at Terra, only to pause when he saw the way Terra was bristling. Terra had no mirror, but he could feel the stiffness across his back, feel the way his cheeks were pinched. He was like a cobra, rising up, shoulders spreading outwards to act as the hood.

“Uh, Terra, are you okay?” Ven asked that casually, even as behind him, Prince Phillip stood and grabbed his sword’s handle.

Terra was about to snarl at Ven to get behind him when he took stock of the younger boy’s poise. He was completely relaxed, not at all worried. It contrasted with Terra’s mood, making it give way to uncertainty.

Terra gestured clumsily at the princess. “So, Princess Aurora . . .”

“She won’t wake,” Phillip said. “Flora said that a kiss from me should wake her, but she hasn’t budged an inch. Maleficent, she claims . . .”

“Terra didn’t do it!” Ven said fiercely. “She tried to trick us with that, too.”

Phillip looked to Terra, who nodded. “I’m glad to hear it,” the Prince said. “I’m still at a loss for how to wake her though.”

Before either of them could offer their help, there was what appeared to be a puff of rainbow –coloured smoke. The smoke eventually divided into three clouds, dyed green, blue and red. From there, each cloud turned into a person, each dressed in their respective colour. They weren’t human as he and Ven were – the small wings on their backs attested to that.

“Oh, dear!” the red-wearing fairy said. “Fauna, Merryweather, the princess’ heart, it’s gone!”

The other two fairies gasped, flying over (making Terra flinch violently and pull Ven behind him) and hovering around Princess Aurora’s head. One, the green one, poked the girl’s head with her wand, and then wilted with disappointment.

“That blasted Maleficent!” grumbled the blue fairy. “She must have taken it. But how?”

As one, the three fairies turned and looked at the two who didn’t belong.

“Keybladers!” the red fairy exclaimed, pointing at him. The gesture triggered a similar reaction from Terra, who summoned Earthshaker to go along with it. As the fairy jumped, Phillip leapt to his feet, eyes wide as he pondered how to defuse the situation.

It was a task that was, fortunately, taken on by Ven.

“Will you calm down, Terra?” he hissed. “Maleficent’s gone, remember? No one’s trying to hurt us!”

“We’re in a room with people we’ve never met before. How do you know-?”

He yelped as Ven swatted him.  Crossing his arms over his chest, Ven said, “Terra, we’re fine. I’m fine. No one’s trying to hurt me. Now can we get back to chasing down Vanitas?”

Terra didn’t even hear that last bit. Something had awoken inside him, making his mind dull, like he was in a trance of some sort. At the same time though, he was keenly aware of some fury deep inside him.

Oblivious, Ven looked around at their audience and said, “Uh, hi?”

“Did you see who took Aurora’s heart?” demanded the blue fairy.

 “We don’t know,” the youngest apprentice said, “but I bet it has something to do with Vanitas. He’s looking for Princesses of Heart.”

Phillip repeated that phrase looking confused, and the fairies immediately rounded on Ven, shushing him. With more strength than Terra would have expected, they shoved him and Ven out of the room, he shock being enough to knock Terra out of his daze. With a flick of their wands, they sealed the door.

“You don’t talk about those sorts of things in front of a world’s natives,” the red fairy said sternly.

Ven blinked. “Wait, you guys know about the different worlds?”

“ _Shh!_ ”

He blushed. “Sorry.”

“Of course we do, dearie,” said the green one. “All of us – the Fairy Godmother, Merlin – we were educated under the same masters.”

“Oh, remember how dashing he used to be?” sniggered the blue one.

“Okay, that’s great!” Ven said. “Can you help us? We’re Master Eraqus’s students!”

They shouted in excitement. The red one said, “Well, why didn’t you say so? I’m Flora, and this is Fauna and Merryweather.”

“So, you’re the real Merryweather,” Terra mumbled, staring at the blue fairy. He wished now that Eraqus had shown him a picture before he left.

“Well, of course I am,” Merryweather said. “Who else would be me?”

He decided not to answer that.

“Now,” Flora said, “you say you are looking for Princesses of Heart. I happen to know that the Fairy Godmother has been keeping an eye on one in the Castle of Dreams. . .”

“Great, I’ll guess we’ll head out there then.” Ven was grinning, but that expression faltered when he saw the fairies glance back at the room containing Princess Aurora. “We’ll get her heart back, don’t worry.”

* * *

She bolted awake. Blinking, Aqua looked around her bright room, which was identical to how she remembered it. The door was shut, the curtains lay over the glass, and her journal was still sitting on the entry she had last written. Had it . . . had it all been a dream?

She sat up, rubbing her arm. She had gone after Terra and Ven, that much she was certain about. But everything that happened when she came back, that terrible scene with Vanitas, had she imagined all that?

She crept over to the door and peered into the hallway. There were so signs of darkness. Laughing with relief, she closed the door again and walked over to the window, prepared to draw back the curtains so she could bask in the sunlight.

She pulled them back, and froze.

She was certain there had never been bars over her window before.

They were iron, cold to the touch, firmly locked in place. She tried to rattle them, beat at them, anything to make them tremble. But they stayed as they were, unyielding. Still trying to register this change in scenery, she laid her forehead against the bars, watching dully as her breath fogged up the glass.

Wait, how? It was spring and . . .

Her eyes widened.

There was snow falling outside her window, gathering on the sill. That wasn’t the worst of it, oh no, not even close. The worst part was that she could barely see outside, so thick was the fog. It was clumped along the ground, growing thinner as the altitude increase, or maybe that was her imagination. Either way, she couldn’t even see the ground below. No, all she could see was the shadow of a large building, a shadow with a cross perched on top.

A shadow of a church.

“No . . .”

She burst out of her room, her flight stopped short when she saw the door to Ven’s room ajar. Trepidation dogging her steps, she pushed it fully open.

Ven’s room had been completely trashed. His clothes were torn and tossed carelessly upon the ground; the glass in his window was smashed, and iron bars lay there as well. The desk was overturned, snapped in several places, and his bed bore scorch marks. What really caught her eye though, was his old wooden keyblade. It laid in the center of the room, as if the highlight of the entire display, broken cleanly in two.

She walked inside and picked the halves up, staring at them dumbly. Who, how . . .?

No, that was a terrible question. The answer was obvious.

She tried to enter Terra’s room next, but the doorknob shocked her when she tried. She could taste it, the residue of some dark energy, and it was potent enough that she didn’t risk trying to breach it.

She knew then that what had happened with Vanitas had been no dream.

Though there was no way they could hear her, she cried out for her friends. She didn’t bother to check on the state of the Master’s room, or the training grounds or any other area she passed. She went straight to the foyer, fear and anticipation of a hasty escape making her swift.

But there were no doors.

She stood in the foyer, staring at the spot where she knew the front doors should be. All she saw though were sleek walls. She felt the area, hoping to discover that the doors were merely disguised, not gone.

But it was in vain.

In silent horror, she stepped back, looking around at the castle that had become her prison.


	16. Chapter 16

Aqua choked back the last of her tears, clutching her teacup as if it were a lifeline.  Though she had spent the last few minutes forcing hot liquid down her throat, she still felt like she was on the brink of freezing to death. Most of the castle looked the same as it had before, and she could almost pretend that things were normal. However, the knowledge that she was trapped poisoned her mind, seeping into very stray thought she had.

She was alone, taken captive by a monster, with Terra and Ven not due back for ages and her Master out wandering the worlds. The combination made her want to puke. Indeed, she wouldn’t be surprised if she did. Her anxiety surrounding Vanitas’s imminent return made the tea she had swallowed down churn violently, stretching her stomach to an extent she hadn’t thought possible.

She had Rainfell cradled to her chest, like a child with a teddy bear in the middle of the night. Had there been a contest for ‘worst possible scenario’, this would have won hands down. It wasn’t just that she was trapped with a sadist – oh no, fate couldn’t let her off that easy – she was trapped with someone who was trying to murder her friends, and was utterly obsessed with her.

There were footsteps in the hall. She flinched, the liquid in her teacup jumping. He was here, he was here, he was _here_ . . .

She shut her eyes, hoping he would leave her alone, just as an ostrich was rumoured to stick its head in the sand so predators couldn’t see it. Predictably, it didn’t work. She could sense him behind her, just standing there. She kept her eyes shut and her face away from him, praying that he would get the hint.

“No hello?” he asked.

She flinched when he spoke. “You took away the doors,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, “well you wouldn’t want to go outside anyways. It’s kind of dangerous out there.”

“Because of your monsters.”

He laughed. “Nah, not them; they wouldn’t hurt you. Problem is it’s not just monsters and the Order out there. There are always a few visitors to the town who are outside my control, and they can be a little nuts.”

The casual phrasing caught her off guard. She looked back at him, mouth dropping open as she registered his pose. He had his arms crossed behind his head, leaning backwards slightly as if there was an invisible wall. His eyes were no longer narrowed like a cat’s but dilated, friendly as he grinned. He looked like . . . he looked like Ven.

She rubbed the side of her head, as if she could force that thought out. “You’ve trapped me in here.”

“I know.” To her surprise, his tone actually expressed something like remorse. That couldn’t be right though. She had to be imagining it.

“Why?”

He had the gall to look somewhat guilty. “It’s for the best,” he said. “You’ll understand someday.”

She didn’t say anything, Vanitas’s answer seeming to echo. That first sentence, that was something she’d heard several times from _Ven’s_ mouth. It was almost surreal the way the memory overlapped with what was actually happening to her. She had to shake her head to clear the confusion.

Then, the mood changed. His hands dropped to his sides, the smile faded. “It’s been a long time,” he said.

She shivered and looked away, freezing up when his hand suddenly touched her shoulder.

“Ventus won’t get in the way anymore,” he promised. He squeezed, and then his hand dug into her shoulder, moving up and down as if massaging it. Maybe, in his mind, the gesture was kind, but to her it was nothing but a declaration of ownership. She had the sudden urge to attack him, but quickly clamped down on it. What was the point? Knocking him unconscious wouldn’t bring the doors back.

She threw his hand off, ignoring his startled expression. “Is this Silent Hill?” she asked.

“Sort of,” he said. “It’s both: Silent Hill _and_ the Land of Departure. Makes life a lot easier.”

 “What were you doing before?” she asked cautiously. The revelation that this was, in a way, her home world brought all sorts of unwanted thoughts. There could be corpses hanging in the woods that she once had explored fearlessly; there could be graves in the training grounds or the Bogeyman patrolling the castle’s borders. Her childhood haunts were ruined now, even the castle because even if it was mostly the same, she knew that Vanitas could change it whenever he wished.

“Working,” Vanitas said. “And before that, I was out scouting . . .”

She wasn’t sure what she had done, but the floodgates had opened. Suddenly, Vanitas was speaking almost too quickly for her to understand. She was able to make out enough, to know that he was talking about his day, that he was telling her about where he had been, what he had seen and whom he had met. His manner was elated and carefree, and he made wild hand gestures to help deliver his story.

He hopped into her lap, not seeming to notice that she blanched and tried to throw herself backwards, only to be blocked by the chair’s back. It cradled her like a throne, and she couldn’t do anything but sit there as Vanitas leaned over her.

“ . . . You should have seen him,” Vanitas was saying. “He was huge, strong, angry, kind of like a furry Terra. And there was so much anger in his heart; if he came here, I could make a monster big enough to flatten the church! But I’m pretty sure he’s protected by one of those Princesses of Heart.”

He sighed, and then drooped. Childishly, he played with the silver emblem her Master had given her, tracing the edges with his ring finger and plucking at it. He smiled then, much too innocently, and snuggled into her, chin following the curve of her shoulder. She tried to block out the sensation of him touching her and focused instead on staying perfectly still.

All that did though was encourage him. He tucked his legs closer to him, allowing him to force more of his weight into her, forcing her to control her body’s shaking.

“It’s just us now,” he murmured into her skin. “Terra’s betrayed us. He never really liked me, did he? Just tolerated me for you.”

She said nothing.

“He only liked Ventus,” Vanitas continued spitefully. “Bet that’s why the twerp was so obsessed –”

“Don’t call him that,” she grated out.

The tension was thick enough to cut in half. Anger and hate radiated from him and Aqua was sure that she had made a terrible mistake. But then it was gone, released in one deep breath, and Vanitas said, “Fine. I bet that’s why Ventus was so obsessed with Terra. Happy?”

She nodded.

“You’re different,” he said. “You cared since the beginning.”

 _Since the beginning?_ she wondered. _What is he talking about?_

He finally pulled away from her, hands on either side of her chest. “The two of us, we’re like family,” he said gleefully. “Nothing’s going to tear us apart. Hey, wanna spar?”

He jumped off the chair and began bobbing up and down on his toes with enough energy to rival Ven. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, not until he ducked behind her chair, and then reappeared on the other side.

“Come on, Aqua. Please!”

She couldn’t process it, this rapid shift in behaviour. It felt like she was an actor switching between one play and another, trying to recall which scene related to each.

“Please, Aqua!”

“No!” she said sharply. In a softer voice, she said, “I don’t want to spar with you.”

The real meaning behind her words rolled off him. He shrugged and said, “Okay, maybe later. I should get back to work anyways. The town’s getting impatient. Oh, but so you don’t get lonely. . .”

He snapped his fingers and a small cloud of darkness appeared. With a fizz, it shaped into one of those purple creatures that had attacked her before. It kept its red eyes fixed on her, even as Vanitas scooped it up.

“Here!” he said, handing it to her.

When she didn’t take it, he just dropped it into her lap. The creature cocked its head, hissing as it began to climb up her chest. It settled around the back of her neck, claws gripping her belt strap.

“It’s one of your monsters . . .”

“This one’s special,” Vanitas interrupted. “The other monsters you saw before, they were formed from other people’s darkness. This one’s formed from _mine_. See, you can tell by this.”

He pointed to one of the purple creature’s antennas. “All of my personal monsters have this symbol on them. I call them the unversed.”

His _personal_ monsters? She felt sick, remembering how that very same symbol had once been on _her_ flesh. Unconsciously, she rubbed that spot, flashing back to the darkest point of her life, where she had been completely under his control.

“This one’s a flood,” Vanitas said. He scratched the unversed under its chin. “It won’t get in your way, I promise. Now, I have to go now, but I’ll be back later.”

He hugged her, causing the flood to shift. Then he was off through a portal, and her breath caught as she thought about leaping through herself, seeing where the darkness took her . . .

But she couldn’t, and the portal faded before her eyes.

The first thing she did was toss the unversed off her. She wasn’t gentle about it; no, the flood went splat against the wall. It landed on its back in a heap, wriggling like a beetle that had been turned upside down. It righted itself soon enough and sat there, watching her, only moving when she moved towards the exit.

Forget a companion. The unversed was clearly meant to be a babysitter.

She refused to look at it, but she knew it was there, right at her heels. A couple of times she thought about eliminating it, but Vanitas would surely figure out, and would respond with a stronger one. If she wasn’t careful, she could have the Bogeyman trailing her.

It was hard to do anything with the unversed around. She tried reading, but her eyes were drawn off the pages to the flood so much that she wasn’t able to make any sense of the words. Training, too, was a disaster; she just felt like she was putting all her weaknesses on display for Vanitas.

She ended up in her room, staring out the window. She was standing, not sitting, because then the flood would insist on sitting on her lap. Currently, it was on her pillow, watching her. Dully, she followed the descent of snowflakes, switching to another whenever one floated out of her range or splattered against the window. Boring, but she felt comfortable with nothing else.

And when the steps came, she clenched her fists to stop them from trembling.

But it was not Vanitas. The window’s reflection showed a cloaked figure instead with the hood drawn high over their face, hiding it. It was the same cloak the members of the Order wore, though whether it was one of them, she could not tell.

The figure held a metal platter in his hands, upon which was what was clearly meant to be a meal for her. “Vanitas said he’ll visit later,” the figure – male evidently – said.

He placed the platter on her desk and did nothing for a moment. She had the sense that he was trying to figure out why she was here. Then he abruptly turned on his heel, nearly running out of the room.

Honestly, she had expected rotten fruit or bug-infested meat, something that would match the themes of death and slaughter she associated with this place. This meal, however, while simple, appeared fresh and tasted that way too. It was starkly different than the one meal she remembered having at Silent Hill, though that was probably because Naminé had been forced to live on the town’s scraps, and did not have access to its resources as Vanitas did.

Naminé. Xion. She hadn’t thought of those two for a very long time. Both of them had been natives of the town, but managed to escape its hold: Naminé by barricading herself in the light-saturated stronghold of Brookhaven Hospital; Xion by betraying her master for the sake of her friendship with Ven. She knew nothing of what had happened to either of them.

She peered out the window, hoping to see the huge shadow of Brookhaven. All she could see though, was the church, mocking her.

She saw then that food wasn’t the only thing to come with her meal. There was a teacup too, the same one Terra had designated as hers, in the corner, as subtle as a blemish in a coat of paint. She clenched her jaw. How _dare_ Vanitas? Really, it wasn’t anything worse than what he’d done before, but she felt like he was invading her privacy somehow, like he had pried open her skull and peeked inside.

Her only reprieve was that the tea was not chamomile. She smirked upon realizing that, and then proceeded to utterly ignore it, an irrational sense of victory filling her.

It was long cold by the time Vanitas returned to her. To her displeasure, he didn’t seem to care very much. He glanced at the empty plate and full cup, and then jerked his thumb at it, upon which the flood grabbed the platter and scurried out of the room.

“Sorry,” he said. “I would have been back earlier, but this latest visitor has been a real nuisance.” He rolled his eyes and collapsed onto her bed. “He won’t give up.”

She knew she would not like the end of this tale, but she asked anyways, “What happened to him?”

Vanitas grinned. He rolled over onto his stomach, propping his head up with his elbows like Ven would. “He may have run into another visitor – or should I say a memory of one,” he said. “They’re currently duking it out right now. I can tell you who the victor is later.”

Her mouth was dry. “W-will he die?”

“No,” he said, strangely sharp. “If he wins, well then I’ll have to think of something else. If he loses, then I’ll just kick him out. That’s what I’ve been trying to do in the first place, but he just won’t leave!”

 “Do they normally die?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It depends on the person. I’ll go out on a limb though and say most of them do.”

He must have seen her pale, because he frowned and asked, “Aqua, is something wrong?”

She stepped back. “You kill them.”

She had known that from the start. She had seen the graves in the church’s graveyard, after all. But to hear him admit it outright with no sense of compassion or regret, drove it home. She really was face-to-face with a monster.

He blinked. “Huh? No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!” she shouted, unable to hold her anguish in. “Your monsters, they’ve been killing innocent people, and they’re under your direct command.” She smacked into the wall, but her legs didn’t quite get the message and tried to keep going. “I was in Brookhaven, I saw what sort of things your people did. You torture people, _kill_ them.”

He groaned, slipping off the bed. “Aqua, will you just calm down?” He spoke with frustration, as if he was arguing with someone who kept insisting two plus two equalled five. “Do you know how few people the monsters actually kill? It’s like one in every couple hundred. Almost all of these people died because they kill themselves, or because they kill each other.”

“Because of you!” she said. “You make them!”

He scoffed. “How can I? They’re beyond my control. I can’t make someone kill themselves. The most I can do is push someone off a cliff. And sure, I arrange things so certain people meet, but it’s their choice to start shooting, not mine.”

She dismissed his words. Either Vanitas was deeply in denial, or he was just lying to her. She was pretty sure it was the latter, because how could any sane person in Vanitas’s position believe that all of these deaths weren’t his fault?

Of course, the key word there was ‘sane’. Was Vanitas sane? That was a question for the ages.

“I bet they wouldn’t have killed themselves if they didn’t come here,” she said waspishly.

He didn’t seem to understand “What are you saying?”

“That this is completely your fault!” Her arm slashed diagonally through the air. “You lure innocent people here so you can kill them, people who were perfectly happy until you came along. How can you live with yourself?”

Vanitas said nothing for a long time.

Then he laughed.

She was already against the wall, so she inched closer to the door, only for it to slam shut. Fearfully, she glanced from the door to the laughing boy, trying to decide whether or not making a break for it was too dangerous.

“Innocent?” Vanitas sneered. “You’re kidding right? The people that are drawn here are _anything_ but innocent. That’s the whole point of this place!”

“I don’t care,” she said fiercely. “You’re a murderer, Vanitas. There’s no excuse.”

The atmosphere grew thick, but she held her ground. With her eyes, she dared Vanitas to counter her, to just try and put together an argument that didn’t make him look like a cold-hearted beast.

For a second, he looked like he was going to take that challenge.

Instead, though, he said, “It’s a hard thing to understand, but there’s more to this place. Silent Hill’s not the festering pool of evil you think it is.”

“I think it is,” she said.

“Really?” He gave her a shark-toothed grin. “Then why don’t I prove otherwise?”


	17. Chapter 17

Dazed, Ven sat up. Ugh . . . what had happened? Last he’d checked, he and Terra had been arriving at the Castle of Dreams and Terra told him to use his magic and . . .

Oh. Now he remembered. Something had gone wrong. His magic had snapped like a rubber band, shooting back into him. He wriggled his fingers and toes, proving they were still there. The rebounding spell hadn’t dismembered him, so that was good. What had it done though?

At that moment, he looked sideways.

There was a small table, leaning against the wall. At least, that’s what it appeared to be; there was one problem with that theory however, namely being that the table was freaking _huge_. It was like a rooftop, and the legs were thick enough that he couldn’t put his arms around them.

What the heck?

He looked around then, noticing that the doors that were so tall he could barely see their tops, the fibres of the carpet that up to his waist, and the wooden planks floor were so wide he could have fit a pool into each individual one. It became apparent then that table wasn’t freakishly large; no, it was something else entirely.

He threw his arms up. “Why am I so _small_?”

Before any had a chance to answer his question, the floor shook. Specks of dirt, like tumbleweeds to his eyes, jumped up and down and he was pitched back and forth, arms spread in an attempt to balance. He stared fearfully at the closed door, expecting a giant to burst through screaming for his blood.

Well, he got the giant. But it wasn’t the bloodthirsty kind.

“Ven? Ven, where are you?”

“Terra, I’m-”

His sentence turned into a garbled mess as Terra stomped across the floor again, the force knocking Ven over. Groaning, he rubbed his aching head, just in time to see Terra run past him.

“Terra, wait, I’m down here!”

Terra paused, and Ven honestly thought he had heard him. Yet Terra was not looking down, but outside, at some scene that Ven could not see.

Ven knew exactly what Terra was going to do, and he added an extra bit of shrillness to his voice. “No, Terra, I’m down here!”

And Terra was out of the room, thundering towards the house’s exit. Ven moaned, and slumped over, body limp. He straightened up soon enough though; he was fast. Maybe, if he was really lucky, he could still catch up to Terra.

Though Terra had cleared the room in five or six strides, Ven was pretty sure it took him a minute to reach the same door. Breathing hard, he pushed himself forwards, preparing to spring across the threshold –

Only to be stopped by a gigantic green eye.

That eye was positioned on a furry black face, right above a cream-coloured muzzle and a wicked fanged smile. So big was the creature, so sadistically gleeful was it, that it took Ven a little while to realize it was only a cat. A plump one, too. Its bottle-brush tail was thicker than its legs, though that could have easily been attributed to fur.

The cat growled, claws scraping against the wood.

“Uh, nice kitty?”

Surprise revealed itself, but was quickly masked. He saw the cat’s chest lift off the ground, weight shifting to its legs in what was an undeniable sign of pouncing.

So, he did what any sane person would do.

He took off in the other direction.

The cat pounded after him, teeth bared in a madman’s grin. It followed him underneath the table, then clockwise around the leg, once, twice, before stopping and going counter clockwise. Ven nearly ran into its mouth, but thankfully, his reactions were quicker and he tossed his keyblade at the cat, bopping it on the nose, causing it to reel back.

Wayward Wind returned, gliding alongside him, and he leapt onto it, soaring upwards towards the tabletop. He happily jumped off there, and crossed his arms behind his head, certain that he was safe.

And he was, for a bit. Then the cat heaved itself over the edge, its bulk giving it some hassle. It recovered quickly enough though, and growled at him.

“Seriously?” Ven said. “Do I look like a mouse to you?”

He flew out into the center of the room, hovering like a hummingbird. From the table ledge, the cat glowered at him, tail swishing as it measured the distance. Ven, however, was certain that he was beyond its range.

“Ha! Can’t get me now.” Ven stuck his tongue out, puffing his chest out as well.

The cat hissed. Ven braced itself, ready and willing to meet its challenge.

The door opened.

“Lucifer, get off there!” A blonde-haired girl with a broom and white bandana over her head rushed over. “I just cleaned that.”

The cat, Lucifer apparently, stared down as if just realizing that. Then, with a cruel sneer, it proceeded to tramp all over the table. The girl thrust the broom at it, forcing it off, but not before Ven could see prints all over the place. Lucifer preened and strutted out of the room, casting one last glare at Ven.

“Oh . . .” The girl lowered the broom in an expression of misery. She looked around at the mess with dismay.

Seeing this, Ven couldn’t help but say, “Are you okay?”

A beat too late he remembered how small he was. The girl jumped, looking around to see who had spoken to her.

Well, he had already alerted her, so he might as well follow through. “Over here!” he called, waving his arms.

She put a hand over her mouth and then quickly walked over. Her blue eyes focused on him, and her lips pursed as she mulled over the sight.

“Why, hello there,” she said. She held up a palm for Ven to hop onto, and he did so, dismissing his keyblade. She had pale, soft-looking features with long eyelashes and a kind smile. He grinned back, glad to finally meet someone who actually seemed kind of happy.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Ven!” he said, proudly jabbing a thumb into his chest.

“I’m Cinderella,” she said. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you . . .?”

He finished for her. “Small? I, uh, had an accident?”

Oh boy, how did he explain this without giving himself away? He wasn’t sure whether or not this world naturally had magic and until then, saying that “I accidentally cast a spell on myself” wouldn’t cut it. He hummed a tuneless song, hands clenched behind his back, hoping that she wouldn’t press him.

He could tell that she hadn’t bought his excuse, but she said, “It’s nice to meet you, Ven.”

“It’s nice to meet you too!” he beamed. “So, not to ruin the mood or anything, but is there a princess around town?”

“No.” She said wistfully, “But the prince is holding a ball to decide who will be. It’s tonight!”

“Wow, a ball?” he exclaimed. He’d ever only heard them mentioned by Aqua before, and she had told him that they had lots of dancing, and music, and people, and decorations. She said that everyone dressed up, and the place was always really fancy and that it was really cool.

He wanted to go to a ball!

“Yes,” Cinderella said, “it’s going to be wonderful, and everyone’s invited.”

“ _Everyone?_ So, me and Terra can come along and . . .?”

Oh, crud. He’d forgotten about Terra!

As if reading his mind, Cinderella asked, “Who is Terra?”

“A friend of mine.” Ven rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s outside, I think. I was trying to catch up to him. Any chance we could look for him?”

“I would love to help,” she said, “but . . .” She glanced helplessly at the mess Lucifer had left.

“Terra will help you!” Ven declared. “I’ll make him.”

She giggled. “That’s not necessary, but I suppose I can clean this up a little later.”

He rode on her shoulder, arms out and making whooshing sound effects as Cinderella made her way to the door. When it opened, a couple of songbirds dropped down, tweeting and circling the girl in greetings before darting off towards the trees. Their sweet song was a wonderful contrast to the rage-driven sounds coming from Terra. The eldest apprentice was screaming at some unseen foe, keyblade drawn and his face nearly red.

“Show yourself!” Terra hollered. “Tell me where Ven is!”

Cinderella said, “Is that. . .?”

“Yep. That’s Terra.”

To Ven’s surprise, Cinderella didn’t seem intimidated by his behaviour. She waved, calling, “Hello! Did you say you were looking for Ven?”

Terra snapped around, as if someone had just yanked a rope tied around his neck. “You know where Ven is?”

It was like a dog running full out towards its master, preparing to jump all over them, only that the dog had grown to the size of a mountain. That’s what Terra looked like to Ven as he charged. He may as well have been in the direct path of a cannonball. He squeaked, grabbing hold of Cinderella’s hair, bracing himself for impact.

Fortunately, Terra hadn’t actually seen him. “Where is he?” he demanded, having stopped in front of Cinderella.

She smiled. “Right here.” She plucked Ven from where he was hiding in her hair, and placed him on her palm.

“Ven?” Terra leaned over. “Why are you so . . .?”

“I messed up, okay?”

Terra smirked. “Well, at least we won’t need so much munny anymore. You can just eat the crumbs from my meal.”

“Very funny.” Ven turned his back on Terra.

“Don’t tease him,” Cinderella scolded, wagging her other finger at Terra. “I’m sure he’s awfully embarrassed.”

And would wonders ever cease, Terra actually looked down and said, “Sorry.”

“Okay, Terra,” Ven said, “now I promised her that you would help her clean up inside.”

Terra groaned, “Ven, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything! Not this time.”

“He’s right,” Cinderella said. “It was that horrible Lucifer!”

Terra grinned, and Ven had to look twice because it was an expression that had become rare on his friend’s face. It was . . . _friendly_ , almost brotherly, a close relative of the kind of smirk he regularly gave Ven. It was like how Terra had been before Silent Hill.

“I’ll help,” Terra said, “but after that, me and Ven have got to get started on our mission.”

“I got it covered, Terra,” Ven said. “I know exactly how to find her.”

“Really, how?”

Ven pumped his fist. “We’re going to the ball!”

* * *

His wristband and glove removed, Terra was elbow-deep in suds as he dunked the rag in the bucket. He wrung it out, then shook it, nearly nailing Ven in the face as he sat on Terra’s shoulder. Ven did manage to get a face of bubbles. He gagged, cringing at the soapy taste, then scrubbed his tongue to rid himself of it. Terra, meanwhile, continued to scrub the table, oblivious to his friend’s suffering.

“Terra, are you sure you don’t want anything?” Cinderella asked.

“I’m fine,” he said. “You go take a break.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, just . . .”

“I’m fine, seriously.” He shot her a smile. “Go relax.”

Cinderella looked like she wanted to argue, but she had already done that several times by now, always unsuccessfully. Neither she nor Ven had expected it, but Terra had taken over her chores, inserting himself so neatly that no one noticed he had wrestled away control.

Once Cinderella was gone, Ven said, “Wow, Terra, never knew you had a secret love of cleaning.”

Terra said nothing, all his concentration exerted in trying to remove a stubborn stain.

“It’s just a shame I’m so small,” Ven said, not feeling like it was a shame at all. “Otherwise, I would help.”

At this point, Terra had finally removed the stain. With a proud grunt, he stood straight, admiring his work. He then turned his eyes to the floor, and the broom sitting patiently in the corner.

“You’re going to sweep, too?” Ven asked.

Terra grabbed the broom. “Do you notice anything odd about her?”

“Cinderella? No way! She seems pretty cool.”

“I agree, but,” Terra shrugged, “I feel odd when I’m around her. I want to do things for her, Ven, be nice to her. I feel like if I yell at her, I’ll cross some kind of line.”

“Most people wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing,” Ven pointed out. “I mean why would you yell at her?”

“That’s not the point, Ven,” he said. “It’s just I haven’t felt like this for a long time. I think the last time was three or four years ago with Princess Jasmine. I just feel like . . . like I want to help her, Ven.”

His voice dropped suddenly, becoming more like a hiss. “And I want to throttle her.”

Ven blinked. “Huh?”

Terra acted as though he hadn’t spoken that last thing aloud. “She reminds me of you and Aqua; she has that aura around her, the one that screams that she’s pure. It’s odd.”

“But harmless, right?” Ven poked him in the neck. “She’s nice.”

“I guess.”

Terra finished sweeping up, and then he and Ven went upstairs to check on Cinderella.

He walked into her room unannounced, so when Cinderella gasped, Terra assumed the worst and let out a strangled squeal, spinning around. His face bright red, he clamped his hands over his eyes, rubbing them fiercely.

“I’m so sorry!” he said. “I didn’t know you were . . .”

Ven snickered. He had a full view of Cinderella, and he could attest to the fact that she wasn’t changing. Instead, she was standing stiffly, arms out as she blocked the view of something.

“Oh no, that’s not the matter,” she said. “I’m sorry, I just thought you were . . . someone else.”

“Well, uh, that’s a relief.” Terra turned around, face still like a tomato. “Sorry about not knocking. So, what are you doing?”

“I’m just . . . well . . . oh, Terra, Ven, I’m still speechless! Isn’t it wonderful?”

She moved aside, revealing what it was she had been protecting: manikin with a pink dress, white at the sleeves, a massive bow in the center of the chest. There was white lace at the bottom, and arcing sashes, also tied in bows, marked the separation between pink and white. Around the manikin’s neck was a string of blue beads, matching Cinderella’s eyes perfectly.

“Wow . . .” Ven said. He couldn’t say much else.

Terra nodded in approval. “Is that for the ball tonight?”

“Yes!” she said. “If I finish all my chores today, my stepmother will let me go.”

Terra exchanged a glance with Ven. “Well, then we better get working.”

* * *

“I don’t see why they need this cleaned!” Terra complained. “I mean look at it: it’s practically spotless.”

Terra was currently beating a rug and although Ven thought Cinderella hadn’t meant that literally when she said it, that was exactly what he was doing. To be specific, he had rolled it up and was slamming the rug against the ground, over and over again. Occasionally he paused, as if thinking it over, before getting right back to his rug-beating duties.

“I wonder if the rest of the chores are like this,” Ven said. “I mean did you hear how many there were? How did they expect her to finish them in time for the ball?”

“I’m beginning to think that was the point,” Terra said. “They don’t want her to go.”

“But why? She’s so nice!”

“Nice doesn’t mean much to some people.”

Terra whipped the poor rug around for a little longer, before letting it flop back to the ground. Then he unrolled it by kicking it, probably adding more dirt to the carpet than there had been before he cleaned it, but Ven could tell that Terra couldn’t care less right now. Whistling, Terra stretched elaborately, rolling his shoulders afterwards.

It was then they realized they had an audience. There were two young ladies and an old woman staring in the doorway, staring. The ladies, one in green and one in purple, were clearly shocked; mouths open, eyes wide. The older woman, an elegant grey-haired matron with a blue shawl, was much better at masking her emotions, only betraying them through her raised eyebrows. Terra cleared his throat, eyes darting to and fro like a rabbit looking for an escape route, and he slyly shifted the shoulder with Ven away from the women. Ven, meanwhile, hid in Terra’s collar.

“Uh, hi there,” Terra said.

The green-wearing lady hissed, “Mother, who is that?”

The older woman blinked. “That is an excellent question.”

Ven could see the veins starting to pop out on Terra’s neck. Not a good sign. Oh no, _really_ not a good sign. He prodded the largest one, trying to gain the older boy’s attention, which he did, as Terra’s twitch betrayed. Frantically, he hissed at Terra to calm down, that it was three helpless women before him who bore no signs of being able to fight.

 “Why are you in my house?” the older woman demanded.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” Terra said stonily. “I was just helping out Cinderella with her chores.”

 _That_ had been the wrong thing to say. The older woman had gone stiff, nostrils flared as if Terra had just said her outfit was hideous. Her two daughters had ceased whispering and gone dead silent. Ven had an urge to poke them, just to make sure they were still alive.

Terra, oblivious, said, “Is something wrong?” He had adjusted his position, placing his feet shoulder-width apart as he, against Ven’s advice, prepared to fight.

The daughters sprung to life. “Did you hear that, Mother?” one demanded. “Cinderella, forcing some poor gentleman to do her work!”

“Forcing?” Terra repeated, genuinely appearing shocked out of his anger. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding –”

“It’s terrible!” the other daughter said. “She can’t be allowed to get away with it!”

“Whoa!” Terra stepped forwards, hands up. “Look, I offered to help. She didn’t force me into anything!”

“Mother, do something!”

“Anastasia, Drizella, control yourselves!” The older woman held her hands up, silencing everyone. “I will handle this.”

“Is anyone listening to me?” Terra demanded. Ven could hear he was more than a little annoyed now. “I _wanted_ to help.”

The older woman waved him off. “Nonsense. You have your place, and Cinderella has hers.” She smiled sinisterly. “I apologize for the inconvenience my stepdaughter has caused you, but you may leave now.”

“But-”

“Oh, come along, I’ll accompany you.” One of the daughters sidled up to him, hooking her arm through his.

“Look I –”

“Don’t worry about old Cinderella,” the daughter sneered. “The girl’s hardly worth your notice.”

“Oh, and like you are, Drizella!” the other daughter said.

Before the girls could start fighting, their mother cleanly separated them. “That’s enough, you two. Now, kindly see this gentleman out.”

Ven, huddled against Terra’s neck, could feel it tense. “I’m not leaving,” Terra grated out. “I told Cinderella I would –”

“Must I remind you that you are trespassing?” the older woman said. “Now leave before I am forced to take action.”

Terra suddenly grew cold. Ven, being in such close contact with him, could feel the darkness rising inside the older boy. Fighting back panic, he kicked Terra, hissing loudly, “Terra, just listen for once! We’ll talk to Cinderella later.”

Terra didn’t respond. He stood still, glowering at the woman who had dared to give him a command.

Then, he turned stiffly and marched out of the house.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in this chapter for references to non-con, non-consensual groping and child abuse.

The portal hung in front of her, oozing globs of darkness. She whimpered, shaking her head as she backed away. Vanitas watched her, cold and calculating.

“Will you hurry up?” he snapped. “I’ll just drag you in if you keep standing around.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Vanitas sighed. He took hold of her wrist, then tugged her forwards . . .

“No, no!”

She managed to break away from him, and fell into a wall, legs twitching as her mind struggled to understand that she had crashed into an obstacle. His head cocked to one side, Vanitas looked down at her. She could see him filing this information away for later.

He smirked. “Fine, we’ll walk.”

His shadow separated from the wall, bulging and splitting in half. Each one took the shape of the ape-like unversed she had faced before – bruisers, as Vanitas called them. They grabbed her, one on either side, forced her to her feet, and marched her forwards like they were two guards escorting a particularly violent prisoner.

She was dragged to the castle’s foyer, to the space whose entrance was now missing. But Vanitas merely laid his hand flat against the wall, and then the structure rippled. Stone fell as wood pushed its way through, white giving way to brown. She craned her neck, trying to figure out whether this was some power Silent Hill gave him, some power of darkness, or simple magic he was using. The doors opened then, and the foggy expanse of Silent Hill was revealed to her.

Vanitas smacked his lips, and reacting to that, the bruisers clenched her tighter. They followed their master obediently, blind to her attempts at escape. Eventually, she gave up and let the unversed haul her around. Her metal shoes left a line in the snow behind her as they dragged.

The hazy outline of the church lurked before her, like a vulture waiting for its prey to expire. This road, the cobblestone passing through the graveyard, she remembered well. The graves, she remembered too, though they seemed even more worn-down than before. Weeds littered the yard, strangling the grass, and a few vines slithered across the path.

One grave, fairly new-looking, popped out of the fog, as if begging her to see it. The unversed yanked her away, but not before she caught sight of the name.

 _Xion_.

Her heart stopped.

Vanitas swooped in quickly. “You liked her, so I put up one for her. I wouldn’t have bothered, otherwise. She was always trouble.”

He was speaking as if she should be grateful, as if he hadn’t been the reason she died in the first place. It wasn’t a topic she had never really thought about before, but now she couldn’t keep her imagination from creating a picture of Xion’s last moments. Aqua’s chest throbbed as she remembered how _she_ had nearly died in Silent Hill; she had been split open from shoulder to hip by Terra. She had been alone, with her keyblade and magic gone, and if Vanitas hadn’t desired her, she would have certainly died.

Had Xion gone out a similar way?

There was no time to linger on that. The unversed dragged her into the church, which smelt faintly of smoke and molten rock. It was the same as it had been before Terra had destroyed it, as if he had never set foot inside.

Past the unversed’s bulk, she caught a glimpse of a hooded figure, no doubt one of the Order. Whoever it was though, they didn’t hang around, but slipped back into the shadows, leaving her to her fate.

And on the altar, the trapdoor opened.

Here, at least, the bruisers were too large to pass through. They skulked at the top of the trapdoor instead, ready to attack should she try to run. Vanitas was behind her too, demanding that she go first, keyblade shoved into her back. It was a weak threat, because both of them knew he wouldn’t kill her.

Hurt her, though? She wasn’t sure about that.

She didn’t resist his demands. This _was_ Vanitas’s town, after all; he held all the power here. She was beginning to realize, too, that if she ever wanted to escape, she needed him to be off-guard. Right now, he couldn’t be more alert if he tried.

They walked down the stairs, or at least a few steps until the darkness frightened her. At that point, Vanitas smacked the wall with his fist and then the whole staircase was suddenly illuminated. She blinked, panic attack cut short. A sliver of her mind thanked him, but the rest of her pounced, grappling with it and grinding it into oblivion. She would _not_ be thankful. Not to him.

They reached the bottom, and faced the Station of Awakening. It, too, had been repaired from Terra’s rampage. There were some differences, however; this time, Vanitas’s image on the glass was unmasked and the area itself was very bright as opposed to pitch-black. Probably just for her.

“Vanitas, why did you bring me here?” she asked, scared of what she might hear. Last time, this very same station had been the place where everything almost ended for her and Ven.

“I told you,” he said, walking past her, “that this place isn’t as evil as you think it is.”

“And  you’re going to prove that through a glass picture?”

He chuckled. Stopping in the middle of the circular platform, he extended his hand. “Aqua, come here.”

To obey or not to obey? She didn’t trust him, not at all, and this was probably leading up to something terrible. But denying him wasn’t really an option, and if she was ever going to gain his trust, then she needed to cooperate.

He took her hand gently, like a dancer leading his partner onto the ballroom floor, and then snaked around so he was behind her. His free hand glided along her arm, making her skin tingle, not with exhilaration, but fear.

“Sit,” he said.

She did so, shakily, feeling like she was kneeling at the gallows. Vanitas followed her down, lips next to her ears. He said nothing, but suddenly, her legs grew numb. They felt distant, detached from the rest of her.

She looked down to see black vines creeping over them.

From behind, Vanitas grabbed her wrists, pinning them against her chest. “Stop fighting,” he said. “They’re not going to hurt you.”

“What are you doing to me?” she shrieked.

She turned her head slightly, and saw Vanitas’s yellow eyes. “I’m making you understand,” he said.

The vines crawled further up her body, numbing everything they touched. And it was once they had devoured her legs, and were halfway up her body that her vision started to fail. It cracked like a pane of glass, violent, clashing colours streaming through the holes.

“They’re not going to hurt you,” Vanitas said.

She couldn’t feel her lower body anymore, and her vision had become nothing more than a distorted image –

– She was standing in a room. Light poured through the windows and past velvety curtains, making the place so bright that even she didn’t feel a need to turn on the lights. The windows themselves were perched maybe five stories above the ground, and overlooked a huge lake with mist drifting over its surface. There was one of those moving-picture boxes (a television, that’s what she thought the Master had called them) sitting between the two windows, with an armchair positioned nearby.

She blinked. Where was she? How did she get here? She turned in a complete circle, confirming that she was still alone. Yet even though she could see no one else, she could still feel Vanitas’s chest against her back, still hear his breaths. How . . .?

“I don’t know why, but I just love it here.”

That hadn’t been her. She spun back towards the window, finding a woman sitting there in a chair. But how? Aqua was certain that neither she nor the chair had been there before, and how would they have been able to sneak past her . . .?

The woman continued. “It’s so peaceful here. You know what I heard?”

The woman was looking back now, but not at Aqua. Aqua peeked in the same direction too, finding . . . something. It at first appeared to be a piece of distorted air; but slowly, colours bloomed, spread outwards like ink from a well that had been overturned. Now, there was a man, dressed in a grey shirt and green jacket.

The woman said, “This whole area used to be a sacred place . . .”

But while she was speaking, another voice piped up, closer, louder, and very much more familiar.

“James Sunderland and his wife, Mary,” Vanitas told her. Though he was still not physically present in this scene, she could hear him just fine. “Just here for a vacation at old Lakeview Hotel.”

Aqua didn’t say anything. Her face probably conveyed her confusion well enough.

The scene suddenly flickered, going black and white and then –

– She was in a dark, grim room with a single bed. Mary lay in it, and James . . . James was holding a pillow over her mouth.

“No, stop!” Aqua ran at them, but her hands passed straight through James. She tried again, and again. Each time, she only smacked empty air.

As Mary’s struggles grew weaker, Aqua turned away and clamped her hands over her ears. She couldn’t watch, she didn’t want to see this. She just wanted to pretend no one this was happening and continue trying to figure out how to escape from Vanitas.

But it was pretty hard to ignore someone dying right behind you.

 _It’s just an illusion_ , she told herself, desperately resisting her need to puke. _He’s playing with you. None of this is real._

And Vanitas spoke to her again.

“Three years ago, he smothered his wife.”

She had fully intended on not looking, but suddenly she was spun around without her consent. What she saw wasn’t too graphic, but disturbing: James scooping up the body of his dead wife, and carrying her away from the bed, bridal style.

“For two years after that, he pretended that she died of a terminal illness,” Vanitas said, “even convincing himself. Until, one day, he got a letter summoning him to Silent Hill . . .”

James walked out the door with Mary, and it shut –

– She was back in that hotel room, only a dirty, run-down version. James was sitting in the armchair, head in his hands, sobbing openly as the TV before him blared static.

“I showed him the truth,” Vanitas said. “I proved to him that Mary’s death was no accident. Only then did he accept what he had done, who he truly was.”

Though Aqua didn’t move, James drew further away from her, as if the entire world was being stretched.

“Without me,” Vanitas continued, “James would have continued to live a lie. He would have continued to think that he was the poor little victim in his miserable story. But now? Now, he understands. Now he can redeem himself.”

She was so far away from him, and yet his sobs remained as loud as ever and –

– She was outside now, on a lawn. There was a shouting match going on in front of her, between one broad-shouldered, tough looking guy and a rather chubby one. A dog stood next to the tough one, barking and . . .

A shot rang out. Then another.

The dog collapsed, dead. Its owner fell onto his backside, screaming as he clutched his leg. Blood poured out from between his fingers, dying them red and running in rivets down his pants.

And their attacker fled. She followed him without moving, always hovering just a few steps behind.

“Eddie Dombrowski,” Vanitas said. “Snapped after one insult too many. That attack was only the beginning. By now, he was fantasizing about murdering everyone who had ever insulted him.”

As she watched, Eddie slowed to a stop. He stared at his gun, which was trembling in his sweaty grip. Somewhere nearby, there were voices. Eddie hid behind a tree the best his bulk would allow, and peeked out. Upon seeing just who was speaking, his face darkened with recognition.

He stroked the gun’s shaft.

“He would have followed through with his fantasies,” Vanitas said. “Would have taken that gun and gone on a rampage.  Only . . .”

A flyer came out of nowhere, hitting Eddie right in the face. He ripped it off furiously, eyes skimming the page. On the top of the paper, she could faintly see something about Silent Hill.

“. . . only he had a sudden urge to go to this town called Silent Hill.”

A strange light shone in Eddie’s eyes. He threw the gun aside, turned away –

– She was in an empty white space, Vanitas standing not far away.

“Now do you understand?” Vanitas asked. “Silent Hill isn’t about evil and violent deaths; it’s about taking the worst of people, stopping them from hurting others, and offering them a second chance. It’s no worse than a jail.”

“Oh, really?” she said. “Then where are they now, Vanitas? What happened to James and Eddie?”

Vanitas said nothing.

“They’re dead, aren’t they?” She didn’t need his answer, she knew she was right. Rage built up inside her, making her sick, and she spat it out so that she could keep standing. “How can people be redeemed when they’re _dead_?”

“I didn’t make Eddie attack James,” Vanitas said coldly, “nor did I tell James to kill himself. They chose their own fates, Aqua. I had nothing to do with it.”

“ _Liar_!” Her blood boiled. She wanted to tear that look off Vanitas’s face, make him feel a fraction of the pain he inflicted on others. “You drove them to their deaths. You killed them!”

His sneer curled into a snarl. “Then maybe they deserved it.”

“No one deserves what you do to them!”

When Vanitas didn’t answer, she relaxed, secure in her victory. She hadn’t even realized it, but she’d been holding her breath and her feet were spread in a fighting stance. She drew herself up high, triumphant, dizzy from the understanding that she had bested him. A minor victory, but in this place, any victory was huge.

And Vanitas smiled.

“No one?” he said softly.

She hesitated, hearing a warning of a trap weaved into those words, but what was the trap –?

–She was in a room, a bright, colourful one with pink walls, a fluffy bed and a teddy bear in its center. She glanced at the closet and caught sight of herself: a girl, hair no longer blue. It was her, and yet wasn’t _her_. She was here, but trapped in another’s body.

There were shouts somewhere in the house. Then steps boomed through the air, coming closer and closer to her room.

The door slammed open. A man stood there, reeking of booze. She opened her mouth but instead of the words she wanted to say, what slipped out was, “Daddy?”

He stepped into the room. Then backhanded her across the face.

“Stupid bitch,” he muttered. He started saying things, terrible, nasty things, but Vanitas chose to speak then, sparing her ears.

“Angela Orosco, abused by her father for all her life while her mother just watched.”

Angela’s father stopped speaking, and leered at her. Moving quickly than Aqua had thought possible, he shoved her, causing her to topple onto the bed. And he crawled on top of her, stubble rubbing her face raw. Her instinct was to fight, but her host’s body was locked in place, paralyzed under his power.

Her earlier assessment had been wrong. She wasn’t trapped in another’s body. No, she was simply living someone else’s experience, just as she had with James Sunderland. The difference was that this time, she wasn’t an observer from the outside, but the _inside_.

“Isn’t just sick what some people will do?” Vanitas asked casually. “Isn’t it _wrong_?”

“V-Vanitas –”

“Doesn’t he deserve punishment?”

Sweaty hands touched her, traced the curves of her hips, then one slipped under her shirt . . .

“No, no, stop! Please, stop! _Please!_ ”

Angela’s father ignored Aqua’s pleads, probably unable to hear them. His hand slid further up her body.

“Stop! _STOP_!”

The first hand was joined by the second and –

– She broke down, curling into herself. At least that’s what she tried to do, but her body refused to obey. She was in a big white room now, and for a fleeting moment, she thought it was the empty space she and Vanitas had been in before and she was _safe_. Then she saw the showerheads lining the walls and the tiles etched into the floor, and heard the water raining against them.

Most importantly, she saw the man in there with her.

The room was full of mist, like the streets of Silent Hill. She could barely hear the man speak over her racing heart and the showers, but she caught something about being neighbours once.

The man approached, and being a fighter herself, she recognized that gait. It was the gait of a predator going in for the kill, the gait of someone with the utmost confidence in their plans, of someone who had some ace up their sleeve.

“Run!” Aqua shouted, not at the man, but at the body she was sharing. “He’s dangerous!”

But her host couldn’t hear her, and saw the danger too late. The man closed the distance between them, pulling out a shank from behind his back and thrust.

It slid right into her chest, between her ribs. She felt it tear into her lung, making her shaky breaths hurt and leave a lingering aftertaste of blood. Her entire left side seemed to be collapsing, stretching everything on the other side until it ached and she thought something was going to snap.

“Murphy Pendleton,” Vanitas said calmly, “got himself arrested so that he could kill a man in jail.”

She fell to the ground, panting, and Murphy raised the shank and brought it down. And he stabbed her again, and again and again –

– She was a young boy, shivering, still trying to comprehend that she wasn’t dead and wasn’t bleeding and that she could breathe again.

“Don’t you want to know _why_ Murphy would do such a thing?” Vanitas said. “Well, right now, you’re his little boy, and over there was the man you were before.”

Her chin wrenched around, finding the man. Before she could think to run, he had caught her. He forced her head into a body of water she hadn’t even seen yet, and held it there. And she kicked and screamed, aided by the little boy’s own desperation, but she couldn’t throw him off.

And Vanitas continued to speak calmly.

“Can you blame Murphy?” he asked. “What kind of monster would do that to a child? Didn’t this man deserve what he got?”

She couldn’t process his questions. She was underwater, drowning, and she couldn’t get him off and she was drowning and oh god she was drowning she was going to die she was dying –

– She spat up bile, choking as what may have been water or tears streamed down her face. A shadow of a woman loomed over her. This time, Aqua was strapped down in a little girl’s body, and she didn’t even bother trying to escape. All she could think was, _What now?_

“Dahlia Gillespie,” Vanitas hissed, and she thought she heard actual hate there. “Oh, she’s an interesting one. See, at least the other guy went to jail, but her? Never spent a day behind bars. No, she was a fucking _hero_ to her pathetic cult. The law wouldn’t touch her. So it fell upon me to punish her for what she did to her daughter. ”

“It’s wrong,” Aqua sobbed.

“Wrong? Oh no.” An invisible finger made its way down her cheek. “It wasn’t wrong. What I did, it was _right_. The people that come to my town, Aqua, they’re monsters. If they were prosecuted in any of the other worlds, the judges would be sending them off to the gallows. At least I give them a second chance.”

“What you do, it’s never right.”

“I think you’ll change your mind soon enough.”

A bright orange light flashed into her eyes. The woman above, Dahlia, she supposed, was holding a torch.

She lowered it to Aqua’s body.

To have skin ripped from still-throbbing flesh, removed strip by strip, with a pause in-between to pour salt onto the steaming wounds. That was the closest she could come to describing what she felt, but really it was indescribable. She arched, screaming, her voice mixing in with the girl’s. Although most of her mind was consumed by blinding pain, a tiny part of her raved, _Who could do this to their kid? Who could do this, period?_

“Am I right, Aqua?” Vanitas asked.

She sucked in air, choking on the putrid taste of burnt flesh and wood.

In another plane of existence, Vanitas grabbed her chin. “Tell me I’m right!”

She screamed, “You’re right! Please, you’re right! Vanitas, stop, please! _Make it stop_ –”

– She was still begging when she flashed into another body, this time being shot in the chest. Darkness fell over her vision and –

His voice rang in her mind, “Every day, this is what I see. This is what I witness.”

– Metal-tipped boots slammed into her ribs, again and again, and she could hear bones cracking and –

Vanitas said, “The universe is filled with monsters, Aqua. Scum. Every day they harm people. Every day they _kill_.”

– Ven had her pinned on the bed, and her heart was on fire and she could feel something ripping it apart and forcing its way inside–

“I am the _only_ thing keeping them in line. If it wasn’t for me, they would overrun the worlds. So, I bring them here. I give them a second chance. And if they don’t take that chance, then I make sure they can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

– She was strapped down again, and a green-eyed man brought his scalpel to her collarbone and then cut –

“Because if I don’t stop them, no one will.”

– She was in Silent Hill, right outside the jail, and a crazed Terra lunged at her and swung–

And she screamed. And screamed. Screamed, and didn’t stop. Something snapped and she could no longer keep track of where or who she was, only that it _hurt_. She kept screaming, even for five minutes after it was over, where her mind still couldn’t register the shift between pain and no pain. When awareness finally returned to her, she found herself in the station again, head in Vanitas’s lap. She had her shaking arms wrapped around him tight enough to leave bruises. Her clothes and hair were heavy and damp, and there were a few small pools of tears and sweat on the ground.

“Now do you see?”  he murmured. His voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he, too, had been screaming.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

Vanitas stroked her hair. “To make you understand,” he said. “This is why Silent Hill exists. I’m not evil, Aqua.”

She couldn’t do anything but repeat her last query. “Why, why . . .?”

“Shh . . .” He wiped the tears from her face, though they were quickly replaced. “I’m not the enemy, Aqua. I’m your friend.”

“But you did this to me,” she sobbed, “you did this . . .”

He shook his head, than touched the spot where she had almost been mortally wounded last time in his town. “ _Terra_ did that,” he said. “And _Ventus_ did _that_.”

He pointed at her chest, right at her heart. She stayed silent. She didn’t want to know what he was talking about.

“If I hurt you, then they’re no better.” He lifted her up, so that she was no longer buried in his lap. “I’m no worse than them. Terra and Ventus, they’re been feeding you lies, Aqua. I’m your friend. I’ve always been your friend.”

She didn’t argue. She wanted to go home; she wanted Ven and her Master; she wanted Terra to hold her and tell her she was okay.

But it was not Terra’s arms that wrapped around her, but Vanitas’s, and he held her with a small, content smile as she cried in his arms.


	19. Chapter 19

Terra leapt to his feet when Cinderella burst out of the house, nearly throwing Ven off his shoulders. Cinderella, it was hard to tell from here, but there was something wrong with the way she appeared, something dishevelled. They didn’t need to debate; they went after her, following her away from the house and into the woods. There was something dark about the place, and even the sky seemed to be taken over by angry clouds.

They passed into a clearing with a double-layered fountain, finding Cinderella collapsed at a stone bench. Her face was buried into her arms, hidden from them, and she cried noisily. In the branches nearby, birds, dressed in cloth vests and hoods, crooned mournfully.

Yet it was not her crying that caught Terra’s eye, but her state. Her dress, so beautiful and refined before, had been completely ruined. The sashes were gone, as were the bows, and even the blue beaded necklace had been lost. It if had just been that, perhaps it still would have been passable as a decent dress, but such luck was not to be. The top layer of the dress, the pink, had been nearly shredded, so that the second white layer dominated. Anyone could tell that this dress had been destroyed.

“What happened?” Terra demanded. He tried to withhold his frustration from his tone, frustration not directed at her, of course, but at whoever had done this to her.

She didn’t move her head out of her arms. “Oh Terra, Ven, everything’s ruined! There’s nothing left to hope for.”

“Oh no,” Ven murmured.

Terra knelt next to her, patting her awkwardly on the back. He didn’t really know what to do. With Aqua, things had always come naturally. It had been like learning how to walk; the first time, after he and Aqua had been introduced, comforting her had been clumsy and gawky, and he hadn’t know where to position his body. But he’d done it again and again, each time getting a little better, until something had finally snapped into place and it became as instinctive as blinking.

Thankfully though, he had Ven with him. “Don’t say that, Cinderella,” the younger boy said. “We can still get you to the ball!”

“But how?” She finally looked up at them, revealing red eyes and pale cheeks marred by a glistening trail. “They’ve already left and I have nothing to wear.”

The despair he heard made him tremble with rage. But something was different. Usually, his rage and darkness went hand in hand, supporting each other. This time, though the rage was present, his darkness was not. It was hiding in his heart, like a dog in its doghouse, afraid to poke its head out. Why . . .?

**_This power she has over us, I don’t understand._ **

“We’ll find something,” Ven promised. “We still have time. Right, Terra?”

He nodded, smiling at her. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, blinking back any more tears, and Terra relaxed.

**_This light she has, it hurts . . ._ **

With a frown, he shook that wayward thought off. “Come on,” he said. He helped her to her feet. “We’ll take care of things.”

She smiled shyly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes, and the second that appeared, Terra felt his skin prickle. Someone, someone very close to him, was using magic.

“Get back!” He shouted. He threw his arms back, securing Cinderella behind him, angling the shoulder with Ven away from this new arrival. Whoever it was, they hadn’t shown themselves yet, and Terra could only pick out a general direction. Had Aqua been here, she would have been able to pick out an exact location.

In a shower of sparkles, what appeared to be an old lady appeared. She had white hair, half-concealed under a blue hood and robe, tied in the front by a red ribbon. She had a benevolent, wise smile, that may have been a tad spacey.

Terra growled, holding his keyblade in front of him.

“Oh dear,” the newcomer said. “What’s going on here?”

Cinderella moved, maybe trying to step ahead of him, but Terra wouldn’t allow that. He planted his feet firmly, demanding, “Who are you?”

“I’m the Fairy Godmother, dearie.”

The Fairy Godmother? That’s he who was supposed to look for, right? She was the person who would lead him to the Princess of Heart. Unless this Fairy Godmother was an imposter, like Maleficent! You just _didn’t know_.

“Sure you are,” Terra said. “Now who are you really?”

A moment’s pause. Then Ven said, “Uh, Terra, I think she really is the Fairy Godmother.”

“How would you know? You’ve never met her!” he said.

Cinderella then touched his arm, and the uncertainty swirling inside him came to a painful stop. “Terra, I think Ven’s right. She seems like a good person.”

**_This light, it burns . . ._ **

He was still as Cinderella ran past him, held in place by that hissing voice he barely understood. He thought Ven might have spoken, and he was sure the Fairy Godmother and Cinderella were, but he wasn’t really paying attention to the words. He didn’t have to. He had Earthshaker ready and could see the Fairy Godmother fully. If she turned out to be a threat, he would see.

“Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!”

The last syllable of that phrase was what alerted Terra to the magic behind it. Why, well, that was hard to explain. It was in the pronunciation, the stressing of the sound, just Terra’s fighting instincts picking up on a threat. But whatever the reason, his answer was the same: he lunged, making to snatch up Cinderella.

More sparkles. They broke against his skin as he neared, like hot coals that had been dropped on his back. He yelped, and the darkness inside him churned like an angry sea, sloshing back and forth.

**_This light, it hurts us . . ._ **

He turned away from the light, missing the transformation taking place. Only Ven’s squawk alerted him to what was happening. He looked just in time to see Cinderella sprout a beautiful white dress, even fancier than the one she had before.

“Terra, did you see that!” Ven jumped up and down on his shoulder, and Terra held his hand out, ready to grab him in cause he fell.

“Yeah,” he said, “I saw.”

“That was so awesome!”

Repeating her magical phrase, the Fairy Godmother than proceeded to create a majestic carriage, then changed some birds into steeds to bear it. Each feat only made Ven more excited, until his exclamations, despite his size, drowned out Cinderella’s.

“Go now, child! Just remember that the spell wears off at midnight.”

 “Oh, thank you, thank you!” Cinderella hugged the Fairy Godmother. “And you two, as well.”

She then tried to hug Terra, but he pushed her away, a static shock having gone through him when their skin touched. Rubbing his elbow, he avoided her eyes, jaw clenching despite his best efforts.

**_Burns . . ._ **

In an effort to lessen the tension, Ven said, “Hey, can you make me big again.”

“Of course I can.” The fairy repeated her magic words, flicking her wand, and then Ven popped back to his regular size.

While still on Terra’s shoulder.

Ven flailed as he toppled, kicking Terra in the face. He shouted, covering his nose, then out of the corner of his eyes, saw Ven getting closer to the ground. Before he could even think about it, his body literally dove into action. Ven, however, was already too far gone, so Terra ended up landing on top of him.

Ven groaned. He was on his back, with Terra splayed over his stomach and chest. One of his arms had pinned Ven’s, the other clawed at the ground. Ven wasn’t moving, which concerned Terra, and he hurriedly got off.

**_It hurt him . . ._ **

“You okay, Ven?” he asked.

**_The light, it hurt him . . . she_ ** **hurt _him . . ._**

He was on his knees, head spinning as he waited for Ven to either move or speak.

**_Can’t hurt him . . . we can’t let it . . . we must –_ **

He was zapped suddenly, and heat erupted in his chest, spreading outwards through his entire body. The dark voice in his head fizzled into silence, leaving him feeling oddly empty. Ven was sitting up, hand on Terra’s chest, right over his heart. The youngest apprentice and the two female observers all stared at Terra, similar looks of confusion and wariness on their face.

Terra frowned. Had something happened? Had he done something?

“Terra,” Ven said cautiously, “are you feeling alright?”

“Of course,” he answered, completely genuine. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ven chewed his lip. His fingers curled into Terra’s shirt and heat bloomed in his chest again, this time staying put. He had the sense of being studied.

“You’re in control of your darkness, right?” Ven whispered.

Okay. Now he was getting insulted. “Of course I am!” he snapped. “Do you need me to prove it or something?”

Ven shook his head quickly. “Just curious.”

“Off to the ball with you!” The Fairy Godmother said, giving Cinderella a nudge towards the carriage. “Remember to be back by midnight.”

“Terra, Ven, are you coming?” Cinderella asked.

“We’ll find our own way there,” Terra said. “There are a couple of things we need to do first.”

“Oh, well, I hope we see each other there!”

Cinderella’s coachman, a transformed animal just like her horses, whipped the reins, and her steeds trotted off. Their hooves clapped against the dirt path, seeming to leave a trail of sparkles in their wake. The Fairy Godmother waved airily, an action which Ven soon copied.

“Now,” she said, “how may I help you two?”

He got straight to business. “We were sent by Flora, Fauna and Merryweather. Apparently, you know where this world’s Princess of Heart is.”

“Of course I do, but don’t you as well?” When Terra and Ven shook their heads, she said, “But you have been with her ever since you arrived.”

“Wait, hold up,” Ven said. “So, is Cinderella the Princess of Heart?”

“That she is! Now, you two better get to the ball.”

Ven’s face lit up. “Terra, we’re going, right?”

He turned his big, watery eyes on Terra, who cleared his throat uncomfortably. Curse those puppy-dog eyes! “Sure, Ven,” he said.

“Yay! Let’s go!”

Without pausing, Ven ran down the dirt path after the carriage, tugging Terra along.

* * *

When they entered the palace, the first thing they noticed was the lights. The crystal chandelier above sprayed the area with beams of white light, which bounced off of necklaces, jewellery and whatever precious objects the guests had brought with them. Every inch of the room seemed to reflect some gem or another, as if the floor had been crafted out of pearls and the walls from sapphire.  

The guests themselves were all finely dressed, carefully holding themselves in a way that would maximize everyone’s view of their jewels, like peacocks showing off their massive tails. A fitting comparison, he thought, because that picture – a bunch of birds preening and strutting, struggling to be more colourful than the rest – was a perfect fit. If they hadn’t gone overboard in cluttering their clothes with precious metals, then maybe they had with the elaborate curls weaved into their hair or the mascara that sat on their faces. Many, too, had some kind of trinket in their hair, whether it be feathers or more gems.

And here Terra was: wearing the same shirt he had worn when he left the Land of Departure; the same giant cargo pants that Ven swore could be used as a parachute; with a random chunk of armour and glove on his left side. He was a mangy mutt among a collection of pedigrees.

But to Terra, what was more striking than the guests’ apparel was their manner. As if conscious that their appearance wasn’t enough, everyone seemed to speak in unnecessarily loud voices, projecting so much that he caught snatches of conversations from across the room. And the conversations that he heard had that touch of arrogance to them, arrogance that said these people were used to having the world at their fingertips.

But not today. There was a sense of urgency and apprehension here, the same kind of emotion that marked soldiers about to march to war. He, with a fighter’s keen eye for posture, could see it in their movements. It was subtle, sometimes, displayed in only a crinkling of the brow or a shift in weight from one leg to another. Others were more obvious, glancing over their companion’s shoulders or wringing their hands. He and Ven alone were spared from the atmosphere of nervousness and mistrust, having no stake in the matter.

Well, he, Ven, and one other.

“You’re here!” Cinderella cried, walking as quickly as she could towards them. “Isn’t it everything I said it would be?”

“It’s amazing!” Ven said, grinning widely.

Terra shrugged. “It’s certainly fancy. You go enjoy yourself, Ven.”

“Aren’t you coming?” Ven asked.

He patted Ven on the head. “I will. I want to look around first.”

Ven knew that was code for ‘scout out the area, map out escape routes and look around for threats’, so Terra wasn’t surprised when he rolled his eyes. But Ven also knew that once Terra had decided those sorts of precautions were necessary, it was almost impossible to dissuade him.

“Well, I hope you two have a fabulous time,” Cinderella said. “I want to see if I can find the prince!”

Terra smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll make a great impression.”

She thanked him and Ven again, hugged them, and then scampered off.

Arms crossed behind his head, Ven asked, “Do you think she and the Prince will hit it off? I mean, I hope so, but . . .”

“She’s a Princess of Heart,” Terra pointed out. “This was practically meant for her.”

Terra watched Cinderella disappear into the crowd, her white dress becoming nothing more than a speck in a sea of colours. Compared to everyone else, her outfit had actually been rather simple. Whereas everyone else had jewels, sashes, ribbons and decorations, Cinderella had only a headband. In the grand scheme of things, she was rather plain.

Which is why Terra knew she would stand out.

While Ven ran around like a kid set loose in a candy store, he prowled the fringes of the room, acutely uneasy with all that was happening. It wasn’t the flashing light that bothered him, or the volume that made it impossible to hear his own thoughts, or even the snooty men and women that turned up their nose at him, but just how _many people there were_. They were everywhere! How was he supposed to keep an eye on things?

He had half a mind to grab Ven and storm out of there, but Ven would be so disappointed. Following that, he had an urge to handcuff Ven to him, so that he wouldn’t lose him and so that the kid couldn’t be ambushed. Of course, seeing as Ven had a giant key as his weapon, it would probably be as effective as just asking him to stay put. So, instead Terra found himself a secluded corner and sulked there, waiting for this to be over.

But of course, Ven couldn’t let that be.

“Terra, you have to dance with someone!” he complained, vainly digging in his heels as he clung to Terra’s arm and pulled.

Terra just stood there, eyebrows raised.

“Argh! Terra, cooperate!” Ven had his back turned, head bowed as he tried to haul Terra along the way a mule would pull a cart. “We’re supposed to be having fun!”

“Someone needs to keep an eye out on things,” Terra said. “This could turn into a disaster any second.”

“That’s what the guards are for!” Ven protested. “Come on, have some fun.”

Terra grunted. He stared out at the crowd, who had divided into pairs that rocked gently on the ballroom floor. Not all had partners though; there were a few women lurking at the edge, wistfully watching the couples in their dance. If he had tried, he could probably find one who would be willing to dance with him.

And yet . . .

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ven. I’m not in the mood.”

Ven sighed. “Terra, you don’t always have to be on the lookout. You’re allowed to have fun too, you know.”

He shrugged, not saying anything. The truth was that he did know that, and it wasn’t just his wariness of being attacked that was holding him back. There was something else too, something he couldn’t quite place. He just knew that this didn’t feel right. Something was missing.

Just then, Cinderella found them.

“Did you meet the prince?” Ven asked.

“He hasn’t come out yet,” she said. “What are you two doing?”

“I’m getting Terra to go dance with someone!” Ven said proudly. He returned to trying to push Terra onto the dance floor.

Cinderella giggled. “Maybe he can’t dance well Ven, and he’s shy.”

“I didn’t think of that.” The pushing stopped for a moment, before returning full force. “But he’s going to dance and have fun anyways!”

“Well, Terra, I would be happy to dance with you,” she said, “if it makes Ven happy.”

Terra still didn’t want to dance, but Ven was showing no signs of giving up. Grumbling, he accepted her offer.

They stepped onto the dance floor, him and Cinderella. It may have been his imagination, but Terra thought that people inched away from them, avoiding the two outsiders. It just made him even more cross, and he fought to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to ruin Cinderella’s night.

The music swelled and the two continued to dance. Terra, having no idea what he was doing, let her lead, and he idly scanned the nearby couples for any threats. But they seemed to be completely absorbed in dancing, unlike him. At last, feeling some assurance that he and Ven were safe, he turned his eyes back to his partner who continued to guide them as they slowly made their way across the ballroom floor.

And just as they passed under the chandelier, the light caught her dress on a weird slant, so that it appeared not white to his eyes, but slightly blue . . .

Just like that, things grew incredibly awkward. He tried not to show it, but couldn’t help angling his body away from Cinderella. She smiled at him, but the flicker of worry in her eyes made it clear that she had noticed the sudden tension, too. And it wasn’t just awkwardness; something felt miserable about this whole situation.

He pulled away. Refusing to look at her, he mumbled, “I’m sorry. I don’t-”

“It’s okay, Terra,” she said.

He gave her a nod, then turned to slunk off, but not before she laid her hand on his arm.

“Terra,” she said, “whoever she is, I’m sure she cares very much for you.”

He smiled. “Her name’s Aqua,” he said, and her name came out like a murmured prayer.

He went outside then, needing some fresh air. Standing on the steps to the castle, he pulled out his Wayfinder, and clenched it tightly.

“Terra!”

He spun around. Ven looked greatly troubled, his lips having thinned.

“Ven, is something wrong?” he asked, his melancholy dislodged in place of adrenaline.

Ven shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I mean I don’t think anything is. I thought I saw . . . no, nothing happened so I guess I was just imagining things.”

“You saw an enemy!” Terra demanded.

“No, I checked it out. I think it was my imagination. Anyways, why did you run out like that?”

He shrugged and turned away. “It didn’t feel right.”

“Why not?” Ven asked. “I mean it’s just a dance. Why does it matter so much to you?”

Ven had walked closer, and when he stiffened, Terra knew he had seen the Wayfinder.

“Aqua . . .” Ven whispered. “I knew it! How long have you been keeping it from her?”

“Before Silent Hill,” Terra said.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Smiling, he shook his head. “Not yet. She’s not ready. But that’s okay; I’ll wait for her. I always have.”

Holding his Wayfinder over his heart, he looked up at the sky, wondering if she was thinking of him, too.


	20. Chapter 20

This was the most amazing, most wonderful thing ever!

Ven had never seen anything like it. Everything was sparkly and really expensive looking. He never knew that jewels could be used in so many different ways. It was like he was flying through space, surrounded by stars on every side. He zipped this way and that, drinking in the sight of this fancy outfit or another. Occasionally, he would stop and stare at one in particular, trying to imagine what his friends would look like in it.

This was so cool! No one seemed to care that he wasn’t supposed to be there; they all just patted him on the head and said something about him being an adorable kid. Well, most of them. Some of them, like Anastasia, just sneered at him. But that was okay; he didn’t care for them either.

Plus, the food was great. It was restricted to one side, piled upon long tables with white tablecloth. While the Land of Departure had always had good food, this was incredible, not to mention stunningly varied. He had no idea where to start. Did he try the pheasant first, one of the pies, or just nibble on a fig?

The only problem was that there wasn’t much in the way of drinks. Well, there were, but not for him. He had asked, but Terra had put his foot down and said no alcohol. This left Ven sipping on some cider while everyone else drank wine from gold-plated goblets. Oh well. He didn’t want to get drunk anyways!

Terra was still lingering by the entrance, wearing his Wayfinder around his neck now. He would glance down at it from time to time, handling it delicately. Ven did feel bad that they weren’t able to bring Aqua here, but there was always next time, right?

A sudden hush overtook the room. Then, a low buzz filled it as women whispered to each other. Ven, being shorter than most of the girls, stood on his tiptoes, trying to see what all the racket was about. Unfortunately for him, the crowd surged forwards, knocking him out of the way. Pouting, he watched as they crowded around a staircase, simultaneously blocking his view of the place.

It hit him then, the reason they were acting like this. The prince must have come out.

He wanted to see, but short of sitting on someone’s shoulders, he was too small. There must have been something . . .

Oh! A balcony!

He ran over to it, and held out his hand, intending on summoning his glider. However, even though the place was insanely loud and there was no one they could hear each other, Ven had a sudden insight that Terra was watching. He turned around; sure enough, the older boy was glaring at him.

Fine. No keyblade glider then. Just old fashion flying.

He propelled himself into the air with Aeroga, and then flipped into a glide. He landed lightly on the balcony, startling the few people who were already up there.  Some of them were guards who blinked at each other in confusion, probably deciding whether or not Ven was a threat (he assured them he wasn’t with one of his biggest smiles). Others appeared to be servants. One thing was for sure though, none of them were guests.

Here on the balcony, he saw the prince for the first time: a black-haired man, who was dressed like a royal guard. He had those same kinds of epaulets, at least. But there was one thing that prevented Ven from dismissing him as another soldier, and that was the colour of his apparel. White and gold, both colours Ven knew to be worn by the wealthy in of this type of world, made up his shirt. The prince, too, carried himself in that prideful manner that managed to clearly state his status without being rude about it.

The prince walked down the staircase, lazily examining the people before him. Even from here, Ven could sense his disinterest. Yet, no one else seemed able to, and the crowd surged again, only held back by the guards.

 _Wow, how’s Cinderella going to get noticed with all of these people around?_ he wondered. Ven couldn’t even see her.

The crowd parted as the prince reached the bottom of the stairs. He made his way to the center of the ballroom, a gaggle of women closing in behind him.

Then he froze.

Ven followed his gaze and saw her: Cinderella, waiting patiently, seeming to possess an ethereal radiance. There was almost a visible spark between the two and the prince swept forwards, taking her hands in his.

Ven smiled. Terra was right: this was Cinderella’s night.

The music started up again, slow, lovely. Cinderella and her prince stepped onto the ballroom floor, just as she had with Terra, only there was no undercurrent of resentment or reluctance here. Ven watched in awe as they twirled together, and at one point, he swore Cinderella gave him a smile.

He stepped away from the balcony railing, having seen enough. He knew Cinderella would get her prince. The other people on there with him knew too; they were giggling behind their hands, whispering furiously to each other.

All but one.

Ven’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Standing at the other end of the balcony, far away from everyone else, was the same person Ven had thought he saw earlier, but convinced himself otherwise: Vanitas. He, unmasked, was watching the proceedings calmly, strangely emotionless, though that only heightened Ven’s certainty that something was wrong.

He ran past the other people, none of whom noticed him, too focused on the prince and Cinderella’s dance. When he was a few strides away, he summoned his keyblade, holding it loosely at his side, but still ready to attack.

“What are you doing here?” Ven demanded.

Vanitas turned his head slightly and acknowledged him with the barest of nods. “Hello, Ventus.”

Vanitas turned away again. Ven blinked. Wait, his other half wasn’t summoning his keyblade and wreaking havoc? And he had spoken to Ven without some kind of snide insult? What was going on?

Caught off-guard, Ven said, “What are you doing?”

Vanitas shrugged. “Watching. Same as you.”

Ven peered at him suspiciously, but Vanitas gave no signs of aggression. It was . . . weird. With a big gulp, Ven dismissed his keyblade, half-expecting Vanitas to attack right away. But he didn’t. The other boy continued to watch the ball, giving no indication why.

“Why are you here?” Ven asked.

Vanitas did not answer, instead saying, “I don’t recall you and Aqua dancing like that, or you and Terra.”

“Well, duh!” Ven shivered at the thought: ugh, that would be like dating his parents! “They’re my friends, not my girlfriend. Uh, boyfriend, I guess, in Terra’s case.”

“You said you loved them,” Vanitas pointed out.

“Yeah, as _friends_.”

Vanitas finally tore his gaze away from Cinderella and the prince. “What’s the difference?”

Ven’s mouth fell open. Slowly, it dawned on him that Vanitas was being completely serious. He combed through his memories of Vanitas before Silent Hill and, well, it only confirmed that Vanitas wasn’t acting. The only person he had ever known was Master Xehanort, and Vanitas’s memories of him were anything but warm.

“I . . .” Ven looked away, scratching his head. How did you explain the difference between love and friendship, especially to a creature that knew neither? The only sort of relationship that Vanitas had personally experienced was that of a master and its servants.

“Love’s love, isn’t it?” Vanitas said.

“But there are different types,” Ven said. “Friendship and romance are different!”

Vanitas turned away, watching the ball again. His fingers drummed on the balcony’s railing. “Why do you love them?” he demanded.

A difficult question, but Ven decided to answer the best he could. There was something funny going on here, and whatever it was, he thought it might have been _good_.

“Because they love me, too.” Anticipating that Vanitas would twist that argument to fit himself, Ven quickly added, “And because I don’t need to force them to. They chose to.”

“How do you know they love you?” Vanitas asked quietly.

Ven couldn’t speak for a second, nervous glee stealing his breath. If this conversation went well, would it convince Vanitas to leave his friends alone? “They look after me,” Ven said. “They watch out for me, and help me, and take care of me . . .”

Vanitas was silent for a moment. “Take care of you? That’s how you know? That’s why you love them?”

“Uh, I guess?”  Ven’s eyes narrowed. Something felt off. “Why are you asking about this?”

“Thanks for the help, Ventus.”

Vanitas tried to walk past him, mask reforming, but Ven blocked him with his body. “No, seriously, tell me why.”

He stared into the domed helmet of his other half, seeing nothing but his own uncertain face. Then the way he recoiled as Vanitas laughed.

Vanitas pushed past him. “See you later.”

Ven, certain that he had accidently made things _worse_ , spun Vanitas around. Before the masked boy could react, Ven grabbed a handful of his bodysuit and brought his helmet right up to his face.

“I won’t let you hurt them,” he growled lowly, “any of them!”

Vanitas snickered. “Is that so? Because so far, you’ve done a _stupendous_ job.”

“You won’t touch them!” Ven hissed. “Not Terra, not Aqua, not Cinderella . . .”

“Cinderella?” His laugh grew high in pitch, like the cackle of a hyena. “Why would I care about her?”

“You’re after the Princesses of Heart,” Ven reminded him, baffled by Vanitas’s response. “. . . Aren’t you?”

“Am I?”

“I . . .” Frustrated, Ven shook him. “What are you planning?”

“Oh, Ventus.” Vanitas shook his head, clicking his tongue. “If I told you, it would ruin the surprise.”

Ven stared at him with horror. He and Terra had assumed Vanitas was after the Princesses of Heart in an attempt to summon Kingdom Hearts. Had they been wrong? And if that were the case, then what _was_ Vanitas up to? It was clear that Vanitas had some sort of plan rolled out, but if he and Terra were wrong about it involving the Princesses of Heart . . .

Had they been playing into Vanitas’s hands this whole time?

“You won’t hurt my friends,” Ven said. “I won’t let you.”

“Just like you didn’t let me hurt Xion?”

Ven went still. His insides, emotions included, frosted over. All he could feel was the smooth fabric entwined with his fingers, all he could hear was Vanitas’s last taunt.

And all he could see were blue eyes in a face framed by black hair.

Vanitas leaned forwards. “Just as I thought.”

“She got away,” Ven mumbled. “You’re just pissed that you haven’t been able to do anything about her and Naminé.”

“Are you kidding?” Vanitas exclaimed. “You really think Xion defied me a second time and lived? Oh no, she’s long gone, Ventus, and tell you what: I enjoyed every second of destroying her.”

“You’re lying,” he said stoically.

“I’m not. Get it in your head, Ventus.” Vanitas pried Ven’s stiff fingers off his bodysuit. He leaned in close, so that had the helmet been gone, his lips would have been right next to Ven’s ears. “Xion is dead.”

“SHUT UP!”

It happened so fast that even Ven wasn’t sure what had occurred, though he was the one who had moved. The mask was ripped off and thrown to the side, and then Vanitas fell, Ven going with him. His arms moved like pistons, smashing into Vanitas’s face. There were shouts, footsteps, but between his dwindling vision and the red coating it, Ven only had mind for his fallen foe.

Arms grabbed him, and he howled in rage, snarling like a wolf that had just seen another take a bite from its prey. He thrashed and twisted, lashing out, ravenous for the taste of violence. He caught at least two other people with a backhand, and both times, tried to follow-up, only to be restrained.

“Let go of me!” he shrieked.

He kicked, catching some guard in the shin, who dropped him. Free, he scanned the room for his enemy, finding him some distance away, having been dragged to safety by another. With a shout, Ven ran for him.

And was tackled by two soldiers. Before his disbelieving eyes, Vanitas grabbed his helmet and ducked into a portal.

“He got away!” Ven screamed. “You let him get away!”

He twisted, trying to bite, and it was only a familiar voice that snapped him out of his rage.

“Ven, what are you doing?”

He looked up at Terra, who had just joined the throng of observers.

“Let him up,” Terra snapped at the soldiers. When they didn’t listen, he snarled, “Right now!”

But these were soldiers, with no motivation to listen to a stranger, and they glowered at Terra. Ven could feel the heat shooting between them and his eyes widened as he realized that he may have triggered the beginning of a huge brawl.

“Terra, calm down,” he said.

“Let him up,” Terra said.

“Terra, seriously, calm down, it’s okay . . .”

One of the soldiers touched Ven’s shoulder, presumably in attempt to lift him up.

And that’s all it took.

“ _Don’t touch him!_ ”

Terra exploded. As in literally exploded. Not the sort of explosion that had his blood flying everywhere, but his darkness, yes. The shockwave knocked all the spectators off their feet, and even pushed Ven back a few inches. Windows cracked, the glass chandelier shattered, and then the darkness returned to its master, pooling underneath his feet. It crawled upwards greedily, turning Terra’s body inky black, and as Ven watched, something rose from his shadow. It was a familiar shape, with pupil-less yellow eyes . . .

Terra’s initial attack had freed Ven from the guards, and he rushed forwards. Just as he had the first time the heartless took over, he slammed his hand onto Terra’s chest. Mentally, he groped for the older boy’s light. He found it, and pulled, and almost with a pop, the darkness coating Terra disappeared. The heartless shrunk back into the ground, leaving the two boys as they were. Terra, frowning, looked down at Ven. Ven looked up at him.

“What happened?” he asked, sounding dazed.

“You lost control,” Ven said. He glanced back at the guards who were getting to their feet, eyeing both of them with menace. “Terra, we have to get out of here now.”

Terra nodded mutely, and then quickly opened up a portal. To the shock of their audience, they ran inside.

He thought he might have heard Cinderella calling after them.

They emerged just outside the palace, Ven panting for breath, Terra still seeming confused.

“We should get out of here,” Ven said. “I don’t think anyone will be happy to see us around.”

“We can’t,” Terra said sternly. “Cinderella, Vanitas will . . .”

“He’s not after her.”

Terra did a double take. “ _What_?”

“I spoke to him, I don’t think he’s after the Princesses of Heart,” Ven said.

Terra bared his teeth. “You _spoke_ to him.”

Oh, crap. Ven backed away. “Just for a moment! I swear, I didn’t know he was here either.”

“He could have –!”

“I _know_ , Terra,” Ven hissed. “Just let that go for a moment and focus on Vanitas’s plans.”

Terra grunted. Rolling his shoulders, he studied the area around them, probably expecting Vanitas to be watching. “Yen Sid said that some of the Princesses had been personally threatened by Vanitas. If he’s not after them, then why is he messing around with them?”

“I don’t know,” Ven said helplessly. “Terra, do you think this was part of his plan?”

Terra was usually like a rock, his confidence unwavering. Yet for the first time in his memory, Terra seemed to go pale.

“We need to talk to Master Yen Sid,” Terra said.

“What about Eraqus . . .?”

Terra shook his head. “Too far away. Plus Eraqus got his information from Yen Sid, anyways. Might as well go straight to the source.”

Ven nodded. “Okay, makes sense.”

They glanced back at the palace with the as-of-now ruined ballroom. Ven bit his lip, wondering what would happened if they found out that Cinderella was friends with the ones that had trashed the place. He said that aloud, and Terra comfortingly put his hand on his shoulder.

“She’ll be fine,” he said. “Trust me on that.”


	21. Chapter 21

Her lungs burning, Aqua hacked up the last bit of vomit and shivered. She was in the washroom, slumped over the toilet, grimacing weakly as her stomach ached. What was wrong with her? She’d been fine just an hour ago, and now she couldn’t stop puking.

Her stomach shuddered again and she gagged, preparing herself for the onslaught. This time, however, it settled and she groaned. In her mind, there was no reason for this. There hadn’t been any warning signs of illness, not even a runny nose. She supposed it could be food poisoning, but Vanitas had eaten the same thing she had, and he wasn’t bent over a toilet.

If he had been, it would have almost been worth it. But she was sure he was fine, not because it was impossible to picture him that vulnerable, but because he was sitting right next to her. The fact that she was constantly puking didn’t seem to deter him any, and his legs brushed against hers.

“Shh . . .” She flinched as he rubbed circles into her back, just as her Master used to do whenever she had been young and sick. “Just let it out. You’ll feel better.”

She glared at him half-heartedly.

Eventually, he lifted his arm, checking an invisible watch, and said, “Okay, it’s been ten minutes since you last threw up. I think it’s safe to get you somewhere else.”

He hauled her up, his shoulder under her armpit, acting as a crutch as he guided her back to her room. Truthfully, she didn’t agree with him that her sickness was over . . . but she wasn’t exactly opposed to vomiting on his shoes either. Maybe then she’d get some time alone.

She was actually debating whether to try and force that by the time they reached her room (at which point it became a moot point. She wasn’t going to taint her own bed). He lowered her gently onto her bed, with a flood afterwards hopping on and offering her a bucket it had dragged along. She took it, then used it to shove the unversed off.

To her displeasure, Vanitas grabbed the chair from her desk. He shuffled up next to her, after which he laid the flat of his hand against her brow. With a tsk, he said, “You’re hot.”

“I’ve been puking,” she reminded him flatly. Between that and the toxic mix of anger, fear and recently, pity she felt towards him, she was burning through calories.

The unversed scampered out of the room. Meanwhile, Vanitas looked at her and nodded paternally, like a father admiring the scribbled artwork of his young child. His ring finger followed the edges of her hairline, sweeping some wayward locks back away from her face.

She closed her eyes. Vanitas . . . his actions could be so very kind, yet at the same time, they were tangled with sinister intentions. Sinister in the view of a regular person, at least. But Vanitas was not a regular person; he was a boy with godhood thrust into his hands, a boy held fast in the jaws of pure darkness. He honestly thought that what he did was a _good_ thing. In his corrupted, warped mind, he was a hero. It frightened her to think that he was that twisted; frightened her, and made her feel sorry . . .

No. She clamped down on that loose thought. She had to control herself, deny her own natural empathetic nature. If she began to sympathize with him, she might start to care for him. And if she cared for him, she would start diminishing his actions, justifying them, _siding_ with him. The leap from Vanitas’s captive to Vanitas’s pet wasn’t that wide; she had to be careful.

Vanitas remained at her side. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, watched her with that single-minded devotion of a dog with its owner. When she jerked, having the urge to vomit again, he helped her sit up. He remained there, offering her physical support as tremors overtook her again, unaffected by the mess created right in front of him. Then, when it was over, he helped her lay back down.

Wearily, she met his eyes. She didn’t understand. Why her? What did he want from her? Last time she was at Silent Hill, he had tried to enslave her and Terra. She’d presumed that he intended to do that again, yet here he was, handling her so delicately, so tenderly, exactly how Terra would have behaved.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“You’re sick,” he said easily. “So, I’m taking care of you.”

She heard his excitement, and frowned. Usually, taking care of an ill person was nowhere near the top of someone’s ‘Fun Things to Do’ list.  She was certain about what she had heard though; in fact, he sounded just as excited as he had when he went on that rant about his trip to Beast’s Castle.

He sounded just as excited, and just as _relaxed_.

The plan unfolded before her: let him take care of her. Weaken his defenses. If Vanitas wanted to rave on about something, she would let him – but _she_ would control what he spoke about. She grew queasy with nervousness (or maybe she just had to puke again) as the potential of this plan opened up. She could milk Vanitas for information, find out exactly what his plans for the Princesses of Heart and her friends were. Then, once she knew everything and he was completely off-guard, she would escape. It was perfect.

Only, she’d have to figure out an escape plan.

That could come later though, once that time came a little closer. The situation could change by that time, so no use fretting about it right now. She studied her captor’s face closely, hoping to see some kind of cue of what she should ask about. His face, however, even when slack, was difficult to read.

 _How do I begin?_ she wondered.

Vanitas was on the chair, leaning forwards, hands on his knees, sitting just like . . .

Ven. That was the answer. She had to speak to him as if he were Ven.

She waited for his fingers to glide across her knuckles again, and when they did she twisted her wrist, grabbing his hand tightly before he could pull it away. Vanitas did nothing for a second, but then he squeezed back, and a tiny smile flickered at the corner of his lips. She turned the tables on him, rubbing circles into his skin with her thumb, and he wriggled in excitement.

“How was your day?” she asked, the hoarseness of her voice masking the way it cracked.

He responded exactly as she had hoped. Words fell out of him, mostly worthless to her. Still, she listened closely, picking out what was useful. There wasn’t much; mostly, he was complaining about that visitor to Silent Hill who just wouldn’t leave, sounding like a little kid whose toy truck had been stolen by his older brother. But she let him talk, taking the time to gather her thoughts and plan out the next step in her attack.

Well, they were on the subject of Silent Hill, so she felt it fair to ask, “Have you ever met a boy named Sora?”

“Sora . . .?”

That slow repetition, the way he pronounced that word as if it didn’t fit . . . she sighed. Ven behaved that very same way whenever she asked something he didn’t want to answer, like whether he was the one who had painted happy faces all over the kitchen, or why Vanitas was trying to kill him in the first place. That behavior always led to the same result: no answer to her question.

But to her shock, unlike Ven, Vanitas _did_ answer.

“He was here for a little while,” Vanitas said. “He’s gone now.”

“Did you know him very well?” she asked.

He barked with laughter. “What’s to know? He’s a kid whose life revolves around his friends. Just like you, or a less violent form of Terra.”

“And Ven,” she couldn’t help but say, “like Ven, too.”

He sneered. “Don’t kid yourself. Ven’s interested in his own happiness, nothing else.”

It was so hard not to snap back at him. Somehow, she managed to keep her manner pleasant. “What about Kairi?”

“Oh, yeah, her.” He waved her off. “She was more useful than the kid, seeing as she had the whole Princess of Heart thing going for her.”

“But not anymore,” she said carefully.

He nodded. “Exactly.”

There it was: the confirmation that he was responsible for Kairi’s state. How did that fit into his explanations of justice and punishment, she wondered.  Clearly, Vanitas was a paragon of justice only when it didn’t get in his way.

“And Sora was the bait for her,” she said, playing off the tidbits she remembered.

Vanitas smirked. “Sure, for her.”

She went pale at those words, though she suspected Vanitas attributed it to her illness. The real reason, however, was that she understood now that while Sora may have been bait for Kairi, his role hadn’t ended there. His arrival, it was the kick that gotten Terra and Ven off this world, her to follow, and Eraqus to follow her. Sora had been the bait for _them_.

“This was your plan!” she spluttered. “You knew he would find us, you knew –”

She must have gotten too excited, because her stomach suddenly flipped over. Reading her change in expression, Vanitas quickly pushed her up, though she managed to hold her sick back. It was a shame, she reflected afterwards, because Vanitas’s chest had offered a perfect target.

“Just relax,” Vanitas said. “We can have fun later.”

She moaned, acid bubbling inside her. “I don’t understand, why the princesses? What do they have to do with anything?”

He laughed wickedly, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t really care about them,” he confessed. “That’s Maleficent who wants them. I just teased the princesses a bit so the Masters would react.”

She closed her eyes. “So they would send Terra and Ven out.”

“See, now you’re getting it!” He raised his hand, as if for a high-five, and then dropped it.

He suddenly ducked down, whispering into her ear. “Of course, if Maleficent or someone else gets those princesses out of the way, I certainly won’t object. Certainly makes my job easier.”

She looked at him, startled. So, Vanitas did have some sort of design on the princesses. She repeated that to herself several times, burning into her memory for later. If she could unlock the secret of why, maybe even find out where he had hid Kairi’s heart, maybe she could use it against him.

“Maleficent doesn’t know she’s a pawn,” Aqua said, lacing her statement with scorn as she catered to Vanitas’s sense of superiority.

“Obviously not. Maleficent thinks she’s running the show around here.” Vanitas chuckled, shaking his head as he gazed into space. “Still, she’s turned out a lot more useful than I thought. For starters, she actually did catch Ven for a bit, took down one of the Princesses of Heart and pushed her world over to darkness. Then, there’s what happened with Terra . . . still working out the implications of that discovery.”

Quietly, she asked, “What happened to Terra?”

He patted her on the head. “Don’t worry about it.”

She rolled away from him, eyes shutting in feigned exhaustion. The chair creaked as Vanitas moved about on it, though he did not leave. Instead, after a couple of minutes had passed, he reached out and touched, and she barely suppressed a yelp. To her great ire and mortification, he started to _pet_ her, combing through her hair, nails grazing her scalp.

Then, it was gone. She felt the space between them increase as he pulled away. His fingers, still locked in her hair, stiffened before retreating. Annoyed, he barked, “What is it?”

Someone else, a male, said, “You wanted me to tell you if he . . .”

 “He won _again_?” Vanitas groaned. “This guy’s more trouble than Harry Mason was! Look, I don’t know if she’s still sick, so keep an eye on her.”

“You want-”

“You just have to stand there,” Vanitas said, “and do whatever she asks. Is that too hard for you?”

“ . . . No, sir.”

“Good.” And joy of joys, Vanitas actually stood up to _leave_. “Don’t you _dare_ screw this up.”

With the whoosh of a portal, the guard was exchanged. She remained in her false slumber, in no mood to exchange pleasantries with another of her jailers. The other person didn’t seem keen to talk either, or may be was just wary of waking her, for his steps were light like a cat.

Much like Vanitas, this other person radiated darkness. A different type though; rather than the choking, pungent taste of Vanitas’s aura, this one was pregnant, subdued. It was like a vicious dog chained up in a junkyard, balefully watching those who passed by, watching for that one that would get a little too close. Like a polar bear sitting at an air hole, just waiting for that glimpse of seal, whereas she would strike and make her kill. But despite the fact that she could almost see his violent fantasies, she was not scared. He would not go after her – why would he when every one of this town’s woes could be traced to a single person?

She could hear him breathing. He must have been right next to her. With a sigh, he murmured, “Who are you?”

It was difficult to place exactly what kind of emotion was there. Anger? Curiosity? Exhaustion? Some mixture of those or something else completely? She couldn’t tell, but there was one thing she did know. It wasn’t the coldness she had expected.

If she opened her eyes, she knew what she would see: a man in a black coat, no face, only a shadow where that should be. All the Order dressed like that and it made them inhuman in a way, lowered them to the level of the monsters that prowled the streets. Hearing this person though, reminded her that there was a living being under there. But did it make things better? Not really, because now she had to grapple with the fact that some people actually _chose_ to serve Vanitas.

Unprepared as she was, she let out a small scream as he touched her. The other person reacted similarly, even leaping back into her desk, head rapping against the wood. With a groan, he righted himself, using the desk as support as he stood.

Well, there went her cover. Rubbing her eyes, Aqua asked, “Who are you?”

“No one important,” he said. “Besides, I asked first.”

She sniffed, turning away with no intension of answering.

Turned out, she didn’t need to. “Aqua, right?” the male asked.

“How did you know?”

He laughed bitterly. “Vanitas talks about you. A lot. I don’t see who else it could be.”

She nodded. Weaving her fingers together, she casually said, “Vanitas said you have to do whatever I ask. Well, I’m asking you to let me out of the castle.”

“Not happening,” he said flatly.

“But-”

“I’m not stupid,” he said. “I know you don’t want to be here, and I don’t care. I have more important things to worry about.”

She sneered. “No wonder you work for him.”

His fists clenched, and he raised them as if to strike her. “I don’t have to justify myself to you!” he snarled. “You’re just his little pet.”

“And you’re just his slave,” she said sweetly.

The tension, the hostility that crackled between them, it wasn’t just anger or hatred, but desperation, fear. She could sense it, that his reactions – that both of their reactions – were no more than the panicked actions of cornered animals. Just as a wounded lion would claw at any that approached, so did they attack each other. Knowing that calmed her a little, though it did not dispel the instinctive aggression that lurked within her.

“Why don’t you go?” she suggested. “I don’t need your help.”

“Vanitas gave me a direct order. He would have my head if I left.”

He turned his head at that moment, catching a ray of light. Silver hair glinted, like the edge of a knife, and she saw yellow eyes. Just like Vanitas. Just like Terra when the darkness took him. Two contrasting figures: one representing protection and safety, one representing terror. Which one was the hooded stranger closer to?

“Why are you helping him?” she asked.

“That’s my business, not yours.”

This stranger, why was he so defensive? She supposed that she should be grateful that he was actually taking the time to speak to her, but it wasn’t like she had started this little spat. No, that onus lay on him alone. Really, even if she had been a little snippy, could he blame her? She was imprisoned against her will, sick to her stomach (both facts he clearly knew) and being spied upon by a stranger. Had she been Terra, she would have snapped by now.

However, she wasn’t Terra, which was why she hadn’t summoned her keyblade to pummel the stranger. Plus, she wasn’t Ven, which was why she wasn’t sulking and ignoring the stranger’s presence. She was Aqua, the girl who hated to fight with others (except Terra when he crossed the line, because sometimes he needed to be taken down a notch), so she took a deep breath to calm herself and tried again.

“I’m not working for Vanitas,” she pointed out. “I hate him. Whatever you tell me, I wouldn’t tell him.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “Vanitas wouldn’t be happy to hear that,” the stranger said. It did not sound like an idle comment or a threat, just a warning.

“You don’t seem pleased with him either,” she said, and his silence confirmed that. “We’re not enemies.”

He said nothing, turning his head to the window. The light now outlined his chin, one lacking the sharpness of Terra’s chin, one still rounded a bit with youth.  The jaw above it was tense though, as if locked into place.

Then he spoke.

“Riku,” he said. “My name’s Riku.”


	22. Chapter 22

For all Eraqus had loved to talk about Master Yen Sid, Terra had only seen him a couple of times in his entire life. Both of those times had been when he was young, before Aqua had arrived on the world, where Eraqus had felt him too young to stay home without supervision. His memories of Yen Sid were faint, his childish mind back then only caring for the new place he found himself in, and not the wizened man that hosted him. What he did remember though, was simple: an old man with a huge beard.

It was time to see whether that memory would be proven true. He and Ven stood before the Mysterious Tower, whose design was even crazier than Terra had recalled. Halfway up its structure, the tower suddenly jerked to the right, as if someone had tried to glue the two halves together, but had seriously miscalculated. There was an unreasonable amount of towers too, each topped with a conical roof. They were turquoise mostly, except for the largest tower in the center, which had been painted blue with stars and moons in a lighter hue. There may have been a few dozen windows too, it was hard to tell from this distance, but the ones he could see seemed, too, unnaturally large.

He walked up to the tower’s portcullis, and knocked. No one answered, though Terra was not particularly surprised; seeing how large the tower was, it would be a miracle if someone heard him. Did they just walk in then? He couldn’t really remember what Eraqus had done, but he didn’t have a lot of options here.

Plus, the door wasn’t locked, so it was kind of Yen Sid’s fault anyways.

They wandered around for a bit, through looping hallways and up spiraling stairs. He was pretty sure that they somehow kept walking in circles. Finally, they got a break when they ran into . . . well, when they ran into a bunch of animated brooms. The brooms danced around them, making Ven beam in delight, and then darted up a staircase, stopping at the top as if to ask why they weren’t following.

Ven glanced at him. “Terra?”

He shrugged. “We got nothing better to do.”

Magic. It must have been magic. That’s the only explanation Terra could give for how quickly he and Ven found themselves in Yen Sid’s office. Though Terra swore they had combed through the place, if the simplicity of the broom’s path was to be believed, apparently Yen Sid’s office was just up a flight of stairs. No, there was no way he would have missed that. It must have been magic.

As it turned out, Terra’s previous description of Yen Sid rang true. Old with a beard; that depicted him perfectly. Sure, there were a few other things, like his stern eyes and bushy eyebrows, but really, old and bearded were all that mattered.

Seated at his desk, just as Eraqus usually was, Yen Sid greeted them. “Terra, Ventus, I did not expect to see you here so soon.”

“Yeah, I know.” Terra looked around for a chair, then sulked a bit when he found none. “There’s been an update in our mission. Ven?” He nodded at the younger boy.

Ven sucked in a big breath. “I don’t think Vanitas has any interest in the Princesses of Hearts.”

“No?” Yen Sid said, all his shock expressed in that single word.

“No, he’s not interested in them,” Ven said with more confidence than before. “I don’t know why he threatened them, but whatever he’s up to, this isn’t it.”

Arms propped up by his elbows, Yen Sid weaved his fingers together and bowed his head. Deep wrinkles lined his forehead as he mulled over what Ven had just told him, until finally, he said, “I am not terribly surprised. The plot seemed too obvious, which is why I declined to tell Eraqus until he asked. However, should your words be true, then we are left without a motive for Kairi’s attack.”

Terra laughed darkly. “I’m sure we’ll find one soon enough.”

“Agreed,” Yen Sid said. “The question is what will you do until then? Will you go home?”

“I’m not opposed to that,” Terra said. “We’re probably safer there than anywhere else.”

He sighed. Home. He hadn’t expected to return there for ages, and yet, just after two worlds, it looked like their journey had come to an end. It was a pleasant surprise, a reprieve from the hell Vanitas had hoped to hoist upon them. Hopefully, Aqua wouldn’t be angry about being left behind, seeing as they already had their reconciliation in Radiant Garden.

Hand in his pocket, he played with his Wayfinder. Maybe he could find some sort of souvenir to bring her, just to prove that he had been thinking of her.

“I suppose there is no reason that you cannot,” Yen Sid said, “though it is rather late. I would suggest you take the time to get some rest before you depart.”

Terra and Ven nodded. “Got it,” Terra said. “I guess we should probably tell Eraqus what’s going on.”

Yen Sid grunted thoughtfully and while it didn’t trigger any of Terra’s alarms, Ven’s eyes narrowed. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” the younger boy said.

Yen Sid was slow to answer. “I have been unable to contact him, as of late. The communication crystal, when I use it, shows nothing and emits only static.” He trailed off, gazing to the side out of a star-shaped window. “A most curious spectacle. I have never observed the crystals to engage in such behavior.”

Before either apprentice could speak, Yen Sid said, “I do not believe that he or Aqua is at risk. I have narrowed down the cause to a magical ward. Most likely, it was cast by your Master to deter Vanitas.”

“You sure?” Terra demanded. Their journey had caught up to him by this point and he wanted nothing more than to sleep, but if Aqua needed him . . .

“Do not worry yourselves,” Yen Sid said. “I have sent my apprentice to meet with him. I am sure everything is fine.”

“That’s good to hear,” Terra said. “Now, I think Ven and I will take up that generous offer of a rest . . .”

“Aw, Terra!” Ven whined. “But I’m not tired yet.”

“Yes, you are,” Terra said. “You just don’t realize it.”

Ven stomped his foot. “I am not!”

“Well, in that case, I just don’t care.” Stifling a grin, Terra swooped down and seized the younger boy, throwing him over his shoulder.

“Terra, quit it!” Fists beat against his back as Ven struggled. “This isn’t cool!”

“No?” he said with a good-natured smile. “How about now?”

Terra pushed him even further over his shoulder, so that Ven was nearly dangling upside down. Ven squawked, his wails of protest morphing into snickers that he tried to suppress. Terra just rolled his eyes, exchanging a look with Yen Sid.

“We’ll be going now,” Terra said, triggering another wave of Ven’s protests.

He marched out of the room, taking the youngest apprentice with him. He craned his head around as to try and see his prisoner. This meant that he did not see the other boy in front of him, and thus, walked straight into him. Terra, his hands occupied with hauling Ven around, cried out harshly and stepped back, dropping into a fighting stance.

Sora stared back at him, hunched into himself like a frightened mouse.

“Oh, hey, Sora.” Ven said, still mostly upside-down. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the castle?”

Sora looked away. “Master Eraqus brought me and Kairi here.”

Terra sneered. So, Eraqus was ditching his duties. What a surprise.

Sora gulped. “Did you . . . did . . . did you find Kairi’s -?”

“Still working on that,” Terra said, ignoring the fact that their current plants were to return home. Ven started wriggling, so Terra dropped him, and cast a Silence spell before Ven could say anything. “She’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Okay, thanks.” Sora gave them a weak smile.

Ven was still trying to speak the entire time it took Sora to walk away, but Terra only lifted the spell when the outsider was gone. Ven gagged, clutching his throat as the spell released it, and glared at him.

“Terra, what are we going to do about Sora?” Ven hissed.

Terra shrugged. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes. For now, we’re going home.”

“But Sora-”

“No buts!” he snapped. “My duty is to your and Aqua’s protection first. Everything else is second.”

“But-”

“I have nothing else to say about this, Ven.”

“But-”

“Enough!” He grabbed Ven’s chin and held it fast, effectively silencing him. “I’ve made my decision.”

“I don’t recall making mine,” Ven grated out.

His grip on Ven’s chin tightened, hard enough to leave bruises, though Terra quickly checked himself. “This conversation is over,” he said, carefully enunciating each syllable. “Now, come on. We’re going to bed.”

Terra snapped his fingers with a clear air that commanded Ven to follow. The younger boy did so, albeit stonily. Terra walked for a bit, then let Ven take the lead, following behind closely, close enough to act if Ven did anything rash. Terra kept his face slack, free of expression, even as a deep, echoing voice hissed in his mind.

**_Good, he needs to learn to submit to us. Him,_ ** **and _Aqua._**

* * *

It was near noon when he woke, alone in his borrowed room. Eyes still closed, he yawned, cracking his shoulders, then rolled onto his side and snuggled deeper into the bed. It was very comfortable, much better than a couch. With a satisfied groan, he lifted himself a little with one elbow, rubbing the guck out of his eyes. They blinked once, twice before opening fully. It was a window he faced and as far as he could tell, it was a nice day out. At least in this world.

With a small smile, he rolled over, breathing deeply and –

– And froze.

For there, right on his ceiling, burned black into the stone, was: _Ask Ventus what he did to Aqua’s heart._

What the hell? Seriously, what in Hades was this?

Standing on his glider, he flew up to the ceiling, poking the letters with his fingers. Though his touch didn’t seem to alter them any, his digits still came away with a chalky black layer. Grimly, he wiped it off on his pants. Ash. It was ash.

But from where? Who had thought it intelligent to play this utterly disgusting joke on him?

A quick look around revealed that his room was undisturbed . . . except for his door, which was still open a crack. He squinted, studying it closely, but couldn’t recall whether or not he had left it that way. Normally, he would have kept the door open, but he had practically been a zombie by the time he went to bed . . .

_Where was Ven?!_

He burst out of his room, nearly crashing through the door into Ven’s room. It was empty, the sheets on the bed thrown aside and a pile of rope by the head.

“Ven? Ven!” he hollered.

There was no trace of the boy’s whereabouts, although there was no sign there had been any kind of struggle. Still, this was _Vanitas_ they were facing off against. He was capable of all kinds of things! He could have swept in while Ven was defenseless, bundled him up, and then taken off. He flashed back suddenly to a glass platform, where Ven lay helpless while Vanitas hovered above like an angel.

He went cold, convinced that Vanitas was killing Ven.

There was too much magic in the tower for his portals to reliably work, that he could tell by the random specks of white and yellow flashing within them. Outside then, was his destination. He could have walked down the stairs and out the door like an ordinary person, but that would take _time_. So, he took another route; he knocked out the glass pane in Ven’s window, and jumped, intending to open a portal on his way down.

But just as he called the darkness to him, he encountered a sight that made him freeze.

He barely recovered. Hastily summoning his glider, he angled it so that he didn’t crash head-first into the ground, though he was still propelled forwards and onto his back. With a groan, he cast a healing spell on himself, rubbing his aching spine afterwards. His fingers ran over the vertebras, which all seemed to be in their rightful place. Grimacing, he stood, wandering over to the flowerbed . . . where Ven was happily curled up like a cat.

Yes, Ven was sleeping. In a flower bed. With dirt smeared on his cheek and arms and leaves sticking out of his hair.

He kicked Ven awake, not terribly kind how he went about it, since Ven’s disappearance had nearly caused Terra to become a splat on the ground. Ven squeaked at the kick, then with a shake of his head, uncurled with a huge yawn. It reminded Terra of a puppy waking. With wide eyes, Ven looked around, and then back at him.

“Morning,” Terra deadpanned.

Ven winced. “I’m pretty sure I fell asleep in a bed,” the boy said.

Nothing more had to be said. Terra knew what Ven was implying. He reached down, and hoisted the smaller boy to his feet, brushing some leaves out of Ven’s hair afterwards.

“Who undid the ropes?” Ven demanded.

“I think it was probably Yen Sid,” Terra said. “He doesn’t know why you’re restrained at night. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

Ven nodded eagerly and ran back inside. Terra lingered, staring at the sky, thinking back to that strange message in his room and the vulnerable place Ven had just been in. Terra knew that Yen Sid was a great magician, unlike any the multiverse had ever seen before, but was that enough to deter Vanitas?

How safe was this world?

Though it was morning, the stars were still out. Standing here, in the middle of Yen Sid’s garden, the sky seemed to be perfectly symmetrical, as if this were the true center of the universe. With that thought, he glanced back at the tower, which seemed to take on a new significance. Not just a tower, but a keep, keeping watch over the wayward worlds. One of them would be his own world; and another would be Silent Hill.

He scowled, wishing he knew which blot of light was that cursed place so he could wipe it out. True, the sky would no longer be symmetrical, but that would be a laughable sacrifice.

But wait, the sky already was unsymmetrical.

There was a single speck of light, shimmering fiercely, that had no twin on the other side. This speck too, was mobile, growing bigger as time passed. A comet? A meteor? Perhaps so, but perhaps not. Terra backed away closer to the tower, peering up in suspicion.

A wise choice too, because as the speck came closer, it became apparent that this was no natural phenomenon. Terra snarled. He took up Earthshaker, swinging back into his fighting stance, and planted himself at the tower’s doors. He wasn’t about to let anyone get in here.

The figure was small, so that Terra couldn’t actually make out who it was until they landed. Then he knew. Oh yes, he recognized those huge ears and furry face. It was Mickey, the one who had let the cloaked stranger escape him.

Instinctive hate raised the hairs on his arms. What was _he_ doing here?

Cutting to the chase, Terra pointed Earthshaker and said, “Not a step closer.”

“Huh? What are ya doing here?” Apparently misunderstanding Terra’s words, Mickey actually ran closer to the irate apprentice. The mouse paused right at the bottom of the steps, keyblade slack at his side.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Terra said.

Mickey just stared at him, seemingly bemused. “I don’t know what this is about, but I gotta see Master Yen Sid right away!”

“Like hell you are!” Earthshaker hummed menacingly. “No one’s getting in here!”

“Where’s Master Yen Sid?” Mickey demanded, a trace of worry in his tone.

Terra said nothing, but spread his body wide, making sure there was no way the mouse could slither past him.

“I don’t wanna fight ya,” Mickey said, “but I will if I have to.”

“And you’ll lose,” Terra sneered. “Don’t forget that part.”

Mickey frowned, and he brought his keyblade forwards into a more aggressive position. Terra copied him, lighting his up with darkness just for good measure. He wasn’t expecting Mickey’s keyblade to blaze white, but it only caught him off-guard for a moment; he’d fought Ven several times before. Mickey’s light couldn’t be purer than his.

The space between them cracked, charged like the air before a storm. His breaths came short and quick as the inevitability of the fight seeped into his muscles, making them pulse with anticipation. This time, they would fight. And Terra would smear his opponent’s blood all over ground. It would be payback.

But before either could strike, Ven ran out, shouting, “Terra, what are you doing?”

He spared Ven a glance. “Go back inside. I’ll take care of this.”

Ven, however, didn’t seem to understand the seriousness of the situation. He grabbed Terra’s keyblade, yelping when the darkness bit him. Shaking his hand at the wrist, Ven slyly slid between Terra and his prey, refusing to move no matter how much Terra growled at him.

“Terra, you need to stop picking fights,” Ven said. “Seriously, it’s actually starting to be a bit of a problem.”

“Ven, you have no idea what’s going on here. Now, get out of the way.”

Ven did not. “Terra, he’s not attacking us.”

“But he might!” Terra snarled, a note of panic sneaking into his voice. “Why else would he be here? I bet he’s working for Vanitas and . . .”

“Or he could be my apprentice.”

Yen Sid’s words slapped over his head like a whip. Cringing, Terra turned to face the old wizard who stared back at him with a mix of disappointment and suspicion.

“Your apprentice?” Terra repeated hoarsely.

Yen Sid nodded.

“These are Master Eraqus’s apprentices?” Mickey asked. “Golly, I didn’t know.”

“Indeed. Mickey, this is Terra and Ventus.” Yen Sid beckoned to each of them in turn.

“Oh, well, uh . . .” His keyblade again held slack, Mickey awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “Nice to meet y’all?”

Terra felt hot. At the same time, his stomach had dropped, and the resulting void triggered a rush of irritation. Sullenly, childishly, he grunted and crossed his arms, not looking Yen Sid’s apprentice in the eye. Ven though, he was all up in Mickey’s face, beaming, demanding a handshake, which Mickey happily provided him.

Yen Sid said, “Have you figured out what is interfering with the communication crystals?”

Mickey blinked, as if just remembering that. He harshly shook off Ven’s further attempts at friendliness, and spoke directly to his Master. “I tried, but I couldn’t find Master Eraqus. I couldn’t find _anything_!”

Like a slate being wiped clean, Terra suddenly found himself devoid of emotion. He was strangely calm, as he inched closer to Master and apprentice, wanting to hear their conversation.

“Master, there was no castle,” Mickey said. “It was hard to see cause of all the fog, but I searched the entire world. There was nothing there.”

“What are you talking about?” Terra demanded. “The castle is _huge_. You can’t miss it unless you’re blind.”

“There was nothing there,” Mickey insisted. “Just a lot of fog and snow.”

At this, Terra laughed. What felt like a cool wind blew over him, stripping away the heat of his earlier embarrassment. “You have the wrong world,” he said confidently. “It’s still spring in my world.”

Mickey continued to speak to Yen Sid. “Master, the entire world was covered in darkness. I could feel it.”

His laughter was cut short. Darkness? The Land of Departure? Nearby, Ven had a similar horrified look on his face.

“You are sure you were in the right world?” Yen Sid asked.

Mickey nodded. “Positive.”

Darkness, in the Land of Departure? Terra shook his head in silent denial. Sure, there had always been darkness in that world, but it was _balanced_. It was cancelled out by the light; no one should have been able to sense either of them. To sense darkness there . . .

He went cold.

He had a single thought before panic overtook him:

_Aqua._


	23. Chapter 23

“Riku,” she said to herself. “You’re friends with Sora and Kairi.”

At that, Riku perked up. “You’ve seen them?”

She nodded. “They came to our world. Sora . . .he’s the reason everyone left the castle. Vanitas used him as bait.”

“Figures,” Riku growled under his breath. “I knew Vanitas let him go for a reason. Is he okay?”

“Relatively speaking,” she said. “My Master patched him up, but he’s torn up over what happened to Kairi and you.”

“Sora shouldn’t worry about me,” Riku said. “He should worry about Kairi. She’s . . . she and him are all that matter.”

“Don’t say that,” Aqua said quietly. Though she and Riku had been at each other’s throat a little while earlier, she felt comfortable around him now. Looking back on his words, she could see that his service wasn’t voluntary either. Like her, he was a mouse caught in the claws of a hungry cat, a piece in a sprawling game of chess. She only hoped that for his sake, he had more worth than a pawn.

“You did nothing to deserve this,” she said firmly. “None of you did.”

Riku said nothing at first, but seeing as her statement was common knowledge, that was fine. He shifted, angling himself towards the window, shadows hiding his face under that hood again. Now, he looked identical to the other members of the Order, and she strongly disapproved.

“Take off your hood,” she told him.

“My hood?” He reached up, tracing the side of the subject of their conversation. “But . . .”

She smiled and said, “You have to do whatever I say, remember?”

“Pretty sure that’s blackmail,” Riku muttered, but he did as she asked.

His yellow eyes stood stark against a haunted pale face. Her suspicions were confirmed. Riku, he was just a kid, couldn’t have been much older than Ven was. Last time, at least the Order had been made of mostly adults, people who – in her memory – actually wanted to be there. But Riku was just a child.

“Why don’t you leave?” she demanded. “What is he holding against you?”

Riku closed his eyes. “Everything.”

She sat up in her bed and hurried over to the edge. “Me and my friends, we can help you. We can protect you from him. You don’t have to stay here. We could escape, right now.”

“I can’t help you!” he shouted, teeth gritted together in a pseudo-snarl. “If I let you go, if I leave, he’ll kill her.”

He wandered over to the window, wrapped his hand around the bars, and peered into the fog. “Somewhere,” he said, “in this town, he’s hidden Kairi’s heart. Until I find it, I can’t help you.”

Silence followed. Riku slumped against the bars, breathing laboriously as if on the verge of tears. Aqua turned her eyes to a corner, feeling like she was somehow intruding. From there out, it was like they were in two separate rooms. Neither looked at each other, nor did they even think too much about the other, too busy with their own worries.

Finally, Riku broke the silence. “What’s your relation to him?” he asked.

She settled her chin on her knees. “I don’t know,” she said helplessly. “He’s obsessed with me and my friends, and wants to be my friend. That’s what he claims at least. I just don’t know why . . .”

“You never knew him before this?” Riku asked pointedly.

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

“Weird.” Riku stared out the window again. “Given the way he talks about you, I thought you two went way back.”

Before she could say anything, he zipped over to her side and slammed his hand over her mouth. “He’s here,” Riku hissed. He leaned down, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “If I find out where Kairi’s heart is, I can help you.”

She understood what he was asking, and gave him a significant look.

He nodded, a true smile lighting up his face. Then, he pulled his hood back up and took his position by the doorway. He seemed to fade into the background, becoming nothing more than a photo on the wall. A photo that Vanitas unfortunately noticed, and sent out of the room.

“Feeling better?” Vanitas asked her once they were alone again.

“Yes,” she said curtly. Immediately after, she reminded herself that she should be somewhat nice, if only to make her life easier. Fitting a fake smile onto her face that made her cheeks ache, she asked, “How did things go with that visitor?”

Vanitas groaned, falling into the chair by her desk. “Pointed him towards another trap. We’ll see how it plays out. If I’ve learned something though, it’s that this guy is really stubborn. He’s just as bad as Terra.”

Vanitas’s carefree grin died. He stared up at the ceiling, as if lost in thought. Slowly, his head rolled to the side, towards her.

“Terra’s so blind,” Vanitas muttered. “Only sees in black and white – just like the Master. It’s not that he can’t understand, he just _won’t_ understand. He just chooses what reality suits him, and bends everything to match it. Ven, too.”

 _Hypocrite,_ she thought. Of course, she didn’t say that aloud to Vanitas. Instead, she settled for, “That’s not true. Terra and Ven are nice and -”

He scoffed. “Nice. Sure. But that’s irrelevant anyways. What I’m talking about has nothing to do with whether they are _nice_.”

Her back was to him, so she hadn’t seen her approach. Thus, his touch came as a complete shock and she gasped, springing forwards and away from him. She nearly crashed into the wall, just barely managing to stop herself short, instead crumbling into a heap in the middle of her bed.

Vanitas still had his arm out as he gazed at her, stunned. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Every time I touch you . . .”

His eyes bugged out. She actually sat up to get a better look because she didn’t think she had ever seen him horrified before.

“Aqua . . .” He spoke so softly she wasn’t even sure it was him. Hunched over, keeping close to the ground, he approached her the way a submissive wolf approached its alpha: avoiding eye contact, using slow movements, licking his lips. “Did someone  . . . were you . . . did someone _hurt_ you?”

Some anger escaped, but mostly his tone was gentle, nervous. It was a loaded question he had asked, she knew that. But exactly what was . . .

Oh.

“No, NO!” She scrambled away from him, mortified by the images that conclusion must have implanted in his mind. He thought she’d been raped - how had she even given off that impression?

 _I’m not broken_ , she fumed. Lately, it seemed everyone seemed to think that.

Vanitas’s whole body sagged. She hadn’t even noticed how wound up he had been before. “Good,” he breathed. “Good.”

She heard so many things in that whisper: a releasing of fear, a thanks for an answered prayer, but mostly relief. Relief that had nothing to do with himself, but everything to do with her. He was still avoiding her eyes, instead studying his fingers which were entangled with each other.

For once, she stared at him instead of vice-versa. Vanitas, he did care about her in his own way. She knew that in his mind, he was a hero, a wall holding back the tides of evil. And her? She, for whatever reason, was precious to him, and so he had gone and kidnapped her, imprisoned her in this castle that had once been her home.

He cared about her. She knew that. But why her?

Softly, he asked, “Did someone . . . did someone try?”

“No.”

Vanitas didn’t look sure, so in a strong, confident tone, she repeated herself.

He looked up at her sluggishly, like his mind was elsewhere. “Never?”

He sounded like a child asking after his long-lost father. She bit her lip, fighting back memories of Ven from when he had first woken from his coma. “Never,” she promised.

His golden eyes were locked on her face, but for once, it didn’t creep her out. How could they, when they seemed to be glistening with unshed tears?

_He’s weak._

Half of her actively rebelled against that thought, viciously demanding how she could think something like that at this time. The other half of her though, realized that was right. Vanitas had lured himself into a vulnerable position. If she didn’t take advantage of it now, who knew how long she would have to wait?

“No one ever hurt me in that way.” She scooted closer to him. “Vanitas, please, listen to me.”

“I believe you.”

She already had a speech half-prepared, so when he said that she was struck dumb. It shouldn’t have been that easy; it was never that easy. Not with Terra and Ven.

“Vanitas, I . . .” She swallowed hard. This could either go according to plan . . . or make things way worse. “I want to go for a walk.”

“Okay, we can –”

“Outside.”

He bristled, the individual strands of his hair seeming to become pointier. “No, no,” he shook his head rapidly, “you can’t.”

“Vanitas, please!” She didn’t have to fake the desperation. This might be her only chance to get out of here, and she _had_ to escape. Terra and Ven, she needed them, and they needed her. Every time she thought of them, there was a pang in her heart that grew sharper with every lingering moment. It was like a fishing hook had been sunk into her flesh, digging in as the line tried to haul her back to where she belonged. She _needed_ them.

“No, you can’t,” he said. “You have to stay here. It’s for the best.”

“Vanitas, I can’t!” She grabbed his arm, making his eyes widen. “I can’t stay here. Let me go outside, please.”

“It’s not safe for you there,” he said. “You have to stay here.”

“Please,” she whispered.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. . . ”

Then, his eyes snapped open and though he looked forwards, he was not looking at her, but straight through her. “This town, it’s filled with the scum of the universe. If something happened while you were out there . . . No. I won’t let it.”

With that last phrase he had uttered, he reminded her of Terra. Terra, her super-overprotective, controlling best friend who wouldn’t let her make her own decisions.

Which, really, was quite similar to Vanitas.

She didn’t mean to, but her grip slackened, allowing him to rip his arm away. Was this the reason he kept her prisoner? Not just to possess her, but to _protect_ her? In a sick way, it made sense.

She leaned back. The room seemed to brighten, highlighting details she hadn’t noticed before, like how very small Vanitas was. He was even younger than Riku, about Ven’s age, but who was he really? How had a person like him obtained this life? What had corrupted his mind so?

To her at that moment, he no longer looked like a monster. Sitting on the bed next to her with his knees tucked into his chest, his head bowed, and his eyes closed as he sucked in air to calm himself, Vanitas looked like Ven. Exactly like Ven. He was behaving like Ven would.

 _Is this one of his tricks?_ The suspicion was there, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. This was too raw to be rehearsed.

She must have been going crazy, for as she looked at him, she kept thinking about her friends. Mostly Ven, Ven as a miserable wreck. Sometimes, though, she thought she saw Terra, staring at her with that no-nonsense, you-must-listen-to-me look. And sometimes, she simply saw Vanitas, some cross between the two.

 “Who are you?” she murmured.

He looked up at her and for a second, blue eyes layered over the gold.

“Ventus,” he said.

All the air was sucked out of her, leaving her shaking as if she was about to collapse. Ven . . . what . . . what kind of delusion was this? She stood up quickly, blood rushing to her head and making her dizzy. Vanitas, seeing her pull away from him, leapt to his own feet, positioning himself as to block the exit.

“Aqua, listen to me –”

“I don’t what kind of game you’re playing, but I want no part of it,” she hissed.

“It’s not a game!” he cried. “It’s true. Me and Ventus, we’re two halves of the same heart, and –”

“Shut up!” She clamped her hands over her ears. She would not listen to him. She knew that wasn’t true. Terra told her so.  Vanitas’s sick lies could remain in his own head.

“I’m telling the truth!” He grabbed her wrists, tearing them away from her head. “I’m Ventus, and Ventus is me! We were separated by Master Xehanort . . .”

She wrenched herself out of his grips. For once in her life, she loomed over him, a vicious snarl taking over her. Fury curdled in her stomach like sour milk, and she spat, “You are _not_ Ven.”

“I AM!”

The walls shook. That snapped her out of her rage and she looked around with horror as bits of stone and plaster began to fall.

“I am Ventus!” he shrieked. “I _am_! Why won’t you understand? There’s no difference between us; we’re the same. So, why do you keep choosing him?”

Okay, she was worried now. Vanitas was on the brink of a meltdown and the world was starting to sway. She had to act, and fast.

She grabbed his shoulders, steadying him, making him look at her. Leaning down so they were at eye-level, she said, “Vanitas, I know you’re a lot like him, but you and Ven are two different people.”

“But we’re not - that’s the point!” He reversed their positions, so that he was suddenly handling her instead. “I _am_ Ventus. We’re the same. There’s nothing he’s done for you that I haven’t!”

His hand slid down her arm, entwining with hers as he fell to his knees. He gazed up at her with the same expression as a kid whose parent had just abandoned them.

“What do you want from me?” he begged. His nails curled into her skin, hurting, but then shifting so that the pads of his fingers lay flat against the back of her hand. “What do I need to do to make you see?”

She didn’t say anything, horrified by the breakdown she was witnessing. Vanitas, she had never seen him so out of control before, and she suspected that this was a first-time occurrence. Though she was the prisoner here, the power she had over him was incredible.

“I love you,” Vanitas whimpered, “as much as he does. I protect you. I take care of you. But you keep rejecting me. Why? Tell me why!”

His other hand clamped onto her arm and he pulled himself up, eyes blazing. The height between them vanished, and Aqua suddenly found herself the smaller one. It may have been because she was shrinking into a corner, because her legs were so weak she couldn’t keep them straight.

He grabbed her chin, forced it up, made her look him in the eye. He spoke, but it was not angry or vengeful, just broken.

“Why?”

Her throat was dry. She swallowed, trying to give it some moisture. “You’re not them,” she said. “Terra and Ven, they’re not like you. You’ve done things that I can’t forgive.”

“Like what?” he hissed.

“Like this!” Her arm swept over the room. “Vanitas, open your eyes. You’ve kidnapped me, kept me prisoner in my own home; you’ve lied to me, tried to turn me against my friends. You’re dangerous; I can’t trust you. Vanitas, you’re not doing this for me. You’re doing it for yourself.”

He let her go. Stepped back. Said nothing, only stared. She released a breath that had caught in her throat. Had she finally reached him?

“They would have done it too,” he said.

“Done what?”

“Kidnap you – don’t deny it!” He cut off her protests before she could even open her mouth. “Maybe Ventus wouldn’t, but Terra definitely would have. I don’t think there’s anyone else in this universe as possessive as he is. Actually, scratch what I said about Ventus. Sure, maybe he’d let you leave, but not before leaving some kind of claim. They’d make you wear a collar or something, just so everyone knows who you really belonged to.”

“That’s crazy,” she said flatly.

“But it is that so far off the mark?” Head cocked to one side, he gave her an unbalanced smile, not unlike the Cheshire Cat. “You say I keep you prisoner, but weren’t they doing the same thing: going off on all their wild adventures while you sat at home and twiddled your thumbs?”

“I think you’re misinformed,” she said. “I was on a mission just a day before Sora arrived.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He waved his hand. “You go on the missions that don’t mean anything. But when it comes to the important ones – to this one – there was no way in Hades they’d let you tag along. Oh, no, your job was to stay at home, let the men do their work so they could come home to you.”

He stepped back, arms spread wide. “You know what people come home to?” he asked. “Not other people. Dogs. Pets. That’s all you are to them, Aqua. Just a cute little puppy that needs to be watched and taken care of and can never be trusted to think for itself.”

She winced, adverting her gaze. That last bit had hit home, because she knew that to some degree, Terra _did_ think that way. But just because Vanitas was right about one thing didn’t mean he was right about the rest.

“You’re not getting in my head, Vanitas,” she said. “I won’t play this game with you.”

He laughed. “Not a game, Aqua. Facts. Truth.”

“Maybe in your opinion.”

His grin widened. “It’s not just an opinion, Aqua. I got the evidence right here.”

And with nothing more than a snap of his fingers, her once-broken Wayfinder materialised out of thin air.

She hadn’t even registered the sight before her body acted. She lunged, reaching for it . . . only for Vanitas to deftly teleport to the other side of the room. He leaned against the wall, holding her Wayfinder by the chain, lazily swinging it in vertical circles.

Her neck tensed as she tried to control her voice’s shaking. “How did you get that?”

“I told you I would fix it,” he said. He ceased spinning, and held it out. “Do you want it?”

She gritted her teeth. On one hand, to answer yes would be to play into his hands. But she really wanted it back . . .

She nodded stiffly.

“That so?” He rubbed his chin, Wayfinder still dangling from his fingers. “And then what are you going to do? Wear it around your neck? Clip it to your keyblade?”

She said nothing. She had intended to wear it as a necklace, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Oh, Aqua.” The Wayfinder disappeared behind his back. “Don’t you see? This Wayfinder, this is your collar. It always has been. Adorable, isn’t it, how the servant enslaves themself?”

He held it out again and she snatched it up, glaring at him. She hadn’t even looked at the Wayfinder, but now, with it securely in her grasp, she did.

And hesitated.

For in place of the chain, was a black, leather dog collar.

“Aren’t you going to put it on?” Vanitas mocked.

That was the push she needed. Defiantly, she did exactly that, raising her chin proudly. She said, “I’d rather be their pet than your slave.”

And he smiled cruelly. “Aqua, you’re not even that to them.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I know. I’m their friend.”

“Oh, really?” He advanced, radiating predatory glee. “Aqua, remember way back when you first visited Silent Hill? Why are you so convinced I’m your enemy?”

“You tried to kill Ven!” she growled. “You tried to enslave Terra, and you _did_ enslave me!”

“Enslave?” he echoed, as if he had never heard the word before.

“You possessed me!” she shouted. “You forced your darkness into my heart and took over my mind –”

“You mean just like Ventus did with his light?”

She blinked. “What?”

“What’s that?” he asked sweetly. “You mean you don’t know?”

His grin was terrible.


	24. Chapter 24

They were in the Dwarf Woodlands, with Terra carrying a slumbering Ven. To portal from the Mysterious Tower to here, it had taken its toll on the both of them. Poor Ven, so accustomed to light, had barely managed to keep his head up for the long time they had been in the darkness. Terra was better off, darkness being his element, though he was exhausted too.

He was torn; one foot was still on his glider, wanting to take off in search of Aqua. The other was on solid ground. It was his worst nightmare realized: having to choose between the two of them. The only small reprieve (and that was using the term lightly) was that the decision was pretty much predetermined. The journey had taken its toll on Terra too, and he had to keep shaking his head and flexing his muscles to stay awake. What lay in the Land of Departure, he had no way of knowing. This meant that that he had to be in shape to fight when he arrived.

That meant Aqua would have to wait.

They were in the woods, next to an old dirt trail. Safe enough, in his mind. He, Aqua and Ven, they’d slept in worse places before. He’d have to be mindful of wild animals, but he was certain he would wake up in time to chase them off.

Just in case though, he overturned a patch of earth with magic, creating a pit. Some branches and one Fire spell later, he had a nice fire going. Surely, that would keep any beasts away.

He lay flat on his back, pulling Ven to him. Terra looped an arm around his shoulders, positioning himself as to act as a pillow to the younger boy. So, Ven’s head lay on his chest, golden hair shimmering in the light of the flames. The side of his face, too, was illuminated by warm light. Like a kitten, Ven kneaded Terra’s shirt, murmuring gibberish.

Smiling, Terra closed his eyes.

He slept longer than he meant to. Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem, but Aqua was waiting for them. Terra shook Ven awake, then slapped his own shoulder, summoning his armour. He was bouncing from foot to foot, eager to be going.

Ven, however, did not share his enthusiasm.

“Terra, I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, pacing. “Hurry up, let’s go.”

Ven puffed his cheeks out. “Terra, that wasn’t what I was getting at.”

He hissed. Why was Ven bringing this up now? They had to get to Aqua!

“We don’t know what’s waiting for us!” Ven said. “We can’t fight on an empty stomach.”

“Sure we can,” Terra said.

Ven groaned. He kicked at the ground, the picture of frustration. “Terra, let’s face it; we both know that if something really is wrong back home, Vanitas probably has a hand in it.”

“Yes, I _do_ know!” he snapped. “That’s why we need to stop stalling!”

“That’s why we can’t go in at half-strength!” Ven shot back. “Look, think about this honestly. Aqua can wait a little longer. There’s no way that Vanitas would kill her.”

“It might not be him,” Terra said quickly.

“Don’t kid yourself. Of course it’s him.”

He gritted his teeth. Okay, so Ven had a point . . . so Ven had a few points actually. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Terra,” Ven tugged on his sleeve, “look!”

An old, ugly woman with a long, hooked nose was walking down the dirt road towards them. She wore a black cloak, similar to the apparel donned by the Order. Hers was a hunched figure, as if the simple basket of apples she carried was too much for her back to handle.

Mmm . . . apples. Not entirely filling, but better than nothing.

“Hey!” Ven waved at her. “Is there a town nearby?”

While Ven carried out the pleasantries of conversation, Terra slyly inched closer to the basket. His eye on a couple, he casually asked, “These for sale?”

The old woman cackled. “Sale? No, not for sale. But you boys look hungry, why don’t you have a bite?”

“Cool.” Terra reached instantly for the plumpest, shiniest one and promptly received a slap to the wrist.

“That one is not for you,” the woman said. “That is for this darling boy here.”

Ven beamed, hands cupped together as she daintily deposited the apple in her hand. He stuck his tongue out at Terra, and said, “I’m more special than you.”

“Whatever,” Terra huffed. “Which one should I get?”

“I don’t know,” Ven said casually, an evil grin on his face. “But whichever one it is, it’s not going to be as great as mine!”

Terra glared. In a snap decision, he grabbed the apple from Ven and viciously took a bite.

“Not that one!” the woman screeched.

Terra stared at her. “Why . . .?”

Suddenly, he felt very, very dizzy. The world swayed under him; the apple slipped from his grasp without him knowing. He tried to catch it, but instead of just his arm, his whole body swayed forwards, and he barely kept his balance.

A second later, he followed the apple.

Flat on his stomach, Terra couldn’t even muster the strength to roll over. He was dimly aware of Ven screaming, though the words themselves he could not make out. He tried to tell Ven that he was okay, but all that came out was a slurred moan.

Oh. Now Ven was shaking him. Terra’s head rolled to the side so he could look at him, only he wasn’t really sure it was Ven he was seeing. Bright specks flashed in his vision, making everything distorted.

“V-Ven . . .”

Unconsciousness took him.

* * *

“Terra, Terra!”

 Ven frantically shook the older boy, who rolled limply with the force. Terra’s face was slack, mouth opened as if dazed. But this was no daze Terra was in. No, Terra had fallen into some kind of deep sleep which despite Ven’s best efforts, he did not seem to be waking from. Shuddering, feeling very small and cold, Ven hugged himself and backed away. Terra. He’d lost Terra.

He looked at the apple, which had rolled away, bitten side up. From there, his glare turned to the old woman herself, who Ven could see was fuming at this turn of events.

“What happened?” Ven asked softly.

“That apple was poisoned,” the woman said cruelly. “Only love’s first kiss will wake him now.”

Poisoned? Love’s first kiss? Ven could take a guess at who that would be, but the entire reason they’d set out from the Mysterious Tower was to rescue her! He needed Aqua to wake Terra, but he needed Terra to save Aqua.

His head hurt.

“There has to be something else!” Ven cried. “Isn’t there an antidote or something?”

The old woman cackled. “Nothing but a kiss. Serves him right for being so greedy.”

He grabbed her. He _grabbed_ her. Part of him was horrified that he would act so violently against an elderly person, but most of him didn’t care. She deserved it, didn’t she? Leaving those poisoned apples right in the open where anyone could take them . . .

Wait. She had tried to stop Terra from eating it. This was no accident, but a deliberate act.

And he, not Terra, had been the target.

His eyes narrowed. “You were trying to poison me. Why?”

 The old woman sneered. “That is none of your business.”

Ven closed his eyes as the darkness washed over him. He could taste it, the darkness inside this person’s heart. It was thick, musty, like a cloud of smog. He probed deeper, trying to wrestle out the reasons for her possession of these weapons.

For a moment, he had something: a fleeting image of a mirror. A rhyme being sung.

“Unhand me!” The woman beat at his hands, fingers curling into claws. However, though her manner was one of arrogant confidence, there was still a trace of fear. Not fear at his rough handling of her, but . . . could she feel what he was doing?

“I said unhand me!”

This time she tried to slap him and Ven, being the trained fighter he was, reacted with violence. His light, which had already been boring into the old woman’s heart, smashed through what resistance remained and suddenly he was –

\- He was in a room, standing behind not an old woman, but a lady with a painted face. The lady herself stood in front of a mirror, within which was what looked to be an eyeless, white mask.

The lady asked, “Do you have it?”

A dark laugh answered her. “Here it is, just as agreed.”

And as Ven watched, Vanitas walked forwards, a box within his hands. Face lighting up with delight, the woman gently lifted up the box’s lid, exposing a bright orb of light within.

“The heart of Snow White,” Vanitas said. “Now, for your side of the deal.”

The woman eagerly obeyed, transforming herself into an old hag, the same one whose memories he was invading. He watched as she brewed her poison, dipped the apple, and then gave Vanitas a conspiring smile.

“The blond one,” the masked boy said. “He’s the one.”

The hag laughed, then set off and –

– He was back in the real world, clutching the hag’s cloak as she gasped, eyes nearly rolling up into her head. Disgusted, Ven pushed her back. She fell hard, but he felt no remorse. She was no elder, just a jealous, bitter aristocrat. She was evil, steeped in darkness. Like Maleficent. Like Vanitas.

“What did you do to me?” she hissed.

Ven blinked, not entirely sure himself. He’d gone into her memories, that much he was certain about. How, was the question? It wasn’t exactly something he did on a regular basis, or ever before. Hadn’t even come close to anything like that. He could, however, draw out people’s light. Was this an extension of that?

A darker thought hit him. Was this power an extension of his bond with Vanitas? Aqua had made it clear that he was capable of invading memories. Did that mean Ven could, too?

“How dare you touch me?” the hag said. “I –”

 Without thinking about it, Wayward Wind flashed into his hand. He swept it outwards, pointing it at the hag’s chest.

“That’s enough,” he said.

It was not anger that drove him. Nor was it sorrow or any other kind of discernable emotion. The closest thing he could come to was honour and pride, but really, he felt nothing. He was in a state of cold calm.

He had never felt better.

 _Someone should do something about her,_ Ven thought. He rotated Windward Wind by its shaft, as it began to pulse with magic.

Then it hit him. Standing here, coldly judging, preparing to do something based on those judgements. Wasn’t that exactly what Vanitas did in Silent Hill?

He shivered and stepped back. He would not be Vanitas. Not now, not ever.

 _But then do I let her go?_ he wondered. He knew her intentions, but the plot had failed. Was he allowed to punish? Just how much was he allowed to do as a keyblader?

He could see the hag stifling a smile as he hesitated. Poisoning was wrong, right? So, it should be okay for him to lay out a punishment.

Yet he still couldn’t bring himself to move, paralyzed by the fear that he was following in his other half’s footsteps.

 _Terra wouldn’t have hesitated_ , he told himself. _He would have taken care of things_.

“If you would excuse me,” the hag’s voice rose at the same moment her lips curled into a sneer, “I have somewhere I have to be.”

The old hag continued down the brick road, and Ven watched. Though there was a voice in his mind freaking about letting her go to continue plotting against them, he couldn’t bring himself to move. No, he could only stand there as she drew further away, heading towards her home, so she could try again to harm an innocent whose heart shone with light . . . him. Or a person like Aqua.

He tackled her from behind, slamming the old crone to the ground. She wailed in pain, holding her huge nose, though that didn’t deter him any. Again, he wasn’t mad. Now, it was a sense of urgency that drove him. He flipped her over and straddled her, planting his hand firmly over her heart.

He didn’t need to hurt her, nor did he need to take any means to safeguard himself. He would let the hag do it herself, for it was darkness that permitted these vile actions, and if that darkness was to go away . . .

He groped inside her heart, for that thin sliver of light remained, and finding it, he tugged.

It was like trying to yank a worm out of the ground. The light refused to surface, trapped under the weight of the hag’s darkness. Ven puffed out his cheeks, pulled harder, and still the light refused to move.

Alright, so the darkness holding it was too strong. He could deal with that. He poured his own light in, chipped away at it, broke the light free of its casing, then eased it out.

He sighed as the light surfaced, free from its prison. He’d done it, he’d lured her light out . . .

But something was wrong. He’d been too rough, too aggressive. As he held that sliver of light in his mind, he felt the walls of her heart sagging inwards, collapsing.

“N-no . . .”

She screamed, eyes bugging out, arching. Ven sent his light in, trying to prop up her heart, to take the darkness and make something useful out of it.

But darkness was not his domain. He could not touch it.

“No, no!”

He leapt off her, watching with horror as she twitched. What was happening to her? All he had tried to do was make her see the light . . . this wasn’t supposed to happen!

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he cried. He kneeled by her, a tirade of Curas leaving him in a low buzz. “Just hang in there – Cura! – I’m going to fix this.”

She gasped, eyes rolling up into the back of her head.

“No!” he screamed. “I’m going to fix this, I will, I promise-”

She took one rattling breath, and then silence.

On his knees, Ven watched dully. He’d . . . he’d . . . he’d killed her. She was gone. Dead. And he had done it.

“What did I . . . what did I do?”

It wasn’t just his stomach that heaved, but his lungs too, forcing out what air was inside. He crumbled, on his arms and knees, forehead against the ground. It was rough and rocky, and chaffed his skin, but he didn’t care. He had _killed_ someone, with his own two hands. He had . . . he had . . .

He wept bitterly.

For a while, he stayed like that. The world around him was forgotten, as were his friends and their peril. He simply wept.

Eventually, the tears dried and sniffling, Ven raised his head –

There was something right in front of him.

He didn’t react, feeling that if this creature mauled him, he deserved it. It was a frail-looking, wispy silver thing with a long slender body, very similar to the purple creatures Vanitas had sent after him in the Enchanted Domain. Instead of red though, its eyes were light green. The creature did not attack, but stared at him patiently, moving its head as to keep its eyes on Ven’s face.

“H-hello?” he said.

The creature did not react.

Ven swallowed hard. He glanced at the hag, who was still lying there, then back at Terra, who was still caught in the grasp of her wicked spell. Then he looked back to the creature, which inclined its head as if to say it had seen everything.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Ven mumbled. Sitting up, he drew his knees tightly in. “It was an accident. I was just trying to stop her.”

The creature did not react.

“I just . . .” He took a shaky breath, then sniffled. “I just wanted her to _stop_. I had to do something. I went too far – I know!” he snapped, as if the creature had commented (which it hadn’t). “I was just trying to make her see.”

His pitch dropped. “It’s not right to hurt people, no matter who you are. And I just wanted to make her see that. I didn’t want to kill her! But she . . . she . . . she shouldn’t have been trying to hurt us. She had no right to do that.”

The creature did not react.

“She wanted to poison me,” Ven said, unable to stop talking. “Instead, she got Terra. She’s just lucky, because if it had been me, Terra would have killed her. Terra . . .”

 _Would he have been proud of what I did?_ he wondered. It was a question he honestly couldn’t answer.

“She’s just lucky,” he repeated to himself. “Terra doesn’t think people like her and Vanitas deserve to live. She’s just lucky I did it instead of him; Terra would have done it messily.”

Sluggishly, he looked the creature in the face. “Terra would have said she deserved it. That she took that risk, trying to kill someone. That it wasn’t our fault because she was the one who attacked us with the poison, because she decided to move first.”

 _Is that true?_ Did _she deserve it?_

He shut his eyes. No. He would not have this debate with himself. Though Terra would have said yes, he wasn’t exactly the most moral person anymore. Aqua was a much better example, and Ven knew she would be horrified by what had just happened.

The creature cocked its head, then patted his.

Lightly, he brushed it away, and the second their bodies came in contact, his heart reached out.

He gasped. Light. Pure light. That’s what this creature was made of.

“How . . .?” he said in awe. Only the Princesses of Heart were made of pure light.

He gently picked up the creature, which willingly went limp in his hands. Yes, that was definitely light he sensed. Not a trace of darkness to be found. With a frown, he realized that he actually recognized this light; it was the same one that had been inside the hag’s heart.

Without really knowing why, he whispered, “Go back.”

The creature squirmed out of his hands, and then waddled over to the hag’s body. Before his eyes, it turned into dust, leaving behind a few sparkles in its wake.

And the hag awoke.

Ven offered her no assistance as she coughed. She was alive? How? He felt the light leave her! How had she come back . . .?

It hit him. The creature, it had been her light extracted.

He blinked, and then looked at his hands. It was a well-known fact that Vanitas could create monsters from the darkness in people’s hearts. And Ven had just done that with this hag’s light. But how? Vanitas had that power because he was the god of Silent Hill, and Ven wasn’t . . .

But Vanitas was his other half. Vanitas was him.

And if Vanitas was the god of Silent Hill, then he must be, too.


	25. Chapter 25

Aqua closed her eyes. She would not believe him. No. No way. What Vanitas was saying, there was no way her friends would do that to her. He was lying, simple as that. He couldn’t be trusted, couldn’t be believed.

But when he was hissing into her ear, that was easier said than done.

Like the metaphoric demon of her conscience, he was situated right at her shoulder, arms wrapped around her from behind in mockery of a lover’s hug. His chin was on her shoulder, eyes fixed on her. They were sitting, currently, on her bed as she struggled to digest what he had just told her.

“Oh, Aqua.” He nuzzled her neck. “Not saying anything now. Got no more arguments, I suppose.”

She bit her lip. That was not true. She just knew that arguing with him was a waste of time. Once he decided on something, it was impossible to change his mind.

“Personally,” he drawled, “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out yourself. I mean you must have thought something was wrong when you found yourself doing things against your will . . .”

Her head whipped around so fast it nearly hit his. “It’s not like that between us,” she said in a low voice. “Ven isn’t you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You put such stake in the idea that me and Ventus are opposites, but we’re really a lot more similar than you think.”

“Ven has never forced me to do anything!” she snapped.

“But how would you know?” He leaned back, holding his hands up in an almost apologetic manner. “He can muddle around with your mind, Aqua. How do you know that he simply didn’t order you to forget the times where he _did_ make you do something? He can do that. He can rearrange your brain, twist it so that you believe anything he says, convince you that the thoughts he implanted in your mind were actually your idea. He can do _anything_.”

His hand moved up to her neck, a finger wriggling its way between her skin and the collar.

“Not even a pet,” he whispered. “Just a thing. A toy.”

“You’re projecting,” she said. “Just because you want me to be _your_ toy doesn’t mean Ven wants the same.”

“I don’t want that!” he said, frustrated. “I’m trying to be your friend, but you keep making things difficult!”

Waspishly, she asked, “Did you forget the part where you kidnapped me? Or the part where you possessed me? Or what about the part where you forced me to kidnap Ven!”

He scoffed, drawing away from her. “At least I’ll admit I did all that stuff,” he said. “Can’t say the same for Ven and Terra now, can we? Oh no, they’re just pretending everything’s perfectly normal.”

Her mouth went dry as she realized that he had hit upon an actual, indisputable point. “They don’t know!” she blurted out. “If they did, they –”

“He doesn’t _know_?” Vanitas thundered, leaping off the bed. “Are you kidding me? How can Ventus not know? Are you saying some of his light somehow got lost and _accidentally_ found its way into your heart?”

“I don’t know,” she said miserably, shaking with something close to fear.

Vanitas didn’t stop. “Are you saying that he accidentally forced his light into your heart? That he, by pure chance, just happened to do the one thing that would give him complete control over you? And yet, somehow, he hasn’t noticed a thing?”

Tears were falling down her face and she tried to hide them, but Vanitas was impossible to fool. For a brief moment, he smirked in triumph. Although he, too, tried to mask his feelings, she still caught it. It felt like a dagger was being thrust into her heart because his plan was _working_ and though she knew what he was doing, she couldn’t stop him.

He grabbed her chin, brought his face right up to hers, then spat every word out. “You are a toy. That’s all. Ventus doesn’t love you. He doesn’t care about you.”

He shoved her away from him, as if disgusted. She fell onto her back and just laid there, eyes tightly closed.

And Vanitas said, “You are nothing to him.”

“Terra . . .”

“Terra’s no better!” he shouted. “Sure, he doesn’t have the cute little powers that Ventus does, but he still controls you. Tell me Aqua,” she felt him straddle her, “who do you fear more? Ventus with his ability to brainwash you, or Terra?”

“They wouldn’t . . .”

“Answer the question.”

She kept her mouth shut. There, she could stop him here; let this silly conversation dwindle into nothing.

“I’m waiting,” he said. He stroked her neck, then cupped his hands around it with the unmistakable intent of throttling her.

She gasped. Obviously, Vanitas really wanted an answer to his question. So much in fact, that he was willing to squeeze it out of her.

“Terra,” she admitted.

“You fear him.” Vanitas said that with a cadence that suggested it was a complete surprise. “You know, Aqua, it’s not healthy for _friends_ to fear each other. For a master and slave though, that’s pretty par the course.”

“I’m scared of you!” she said. “What do you make of that?”

He shrugged. “That Ventus and Terra are vicious liars and you believe them way too easily. No wonder they tricked you into becoming their dog. You never saw it coming, did you?”

“I’m not their pet!”

He smirked, then flicked the collar sitting heavily on her neck.

She slapped his hand away. “Will you get over yourself?” she demanded. “I’m not their pet, and you’re crazy to suggest that. We’re _friends_. Friends! Nothing more, nothing less, so shut up!”

She was on her feet now, red in the face as she screamed at him. It was the first time she had truly furious with him without being checked by fear.

Vanitas rolled his eyes and looked away. “Let’s go to Terra’s room,” he said. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Of course, when Vanitas said that, he really meant, ‘You’re going to Terra’s room whether you like it or not.’ Already, he was behind her, heavy breathing disturbing her hair. Helplessly, she let him steer her out of her room and into Terra’s, fighting hard not to cringe when the door shut.

Unlike Ven’s room, Terra’s was in good shape. It looked to be untouched and indeed, Aqua could see a fine layer of dust on the furniture. Bars lay, too, on his window, thicker and stronger than the ones in her room, as if Vanitas had been secretly keeping the eldest apprentice locked up. She doubted that was true however, as Terra would never allowed himself to be caged, and the room showed no signs of being lived in.

“Here, what do you make of this?” he asked. From atop Terra’s desk, he plucked a piece of paper and handed it to her.

She snatched it away from him, scowling. Though she had no idea what its contents were, she still didn’t appreciate him invading her friend’s privacy!

Vanitas watched her, still smirking.

It was clear what he was waiting for. Sweat dampening her forehead, butterflies dancing in her stomach, she turned over the paper, revealing what had been written. It was Terra’s handwriting, she was sure of it; his ink lines always seemed dark enough to be on the verge of leaking through the paper. Furthermore, the lines were crisp, sharp, a signal that this was some kind of final draft by the older apprentice.

It was not at all what she was expecting. It was just a list of ingredients: a tablespoon of honey; half a teaspoon of sugar; let sit for at least eight minutes, but not over fifteen. The more she studied it, the more familiar it became, until she realized that she was looking at a set of directions on how to prepare her evening tea.

A ghost of a smile lit up her face. How did this prove any of Vanitas’s accusations? It was actually sweet that Terra would put so much effort into making sure her tea was just right. It was something great friends would do – certainly not something that occurred between owner and pet.

There was only one thing that confused her. On the bottom half of the paper was a different kind of list, stating simple times and measurements like: _Two and a half, four hours and ten – forty minutes._ Oftentimes, there was a name or label of some kind that made no sense to her, or next to the large measurements, a small note to include more honey or sugar. It was a bizarre assortment, and she couldn’t make much sense of it.

“This is it?” she waved the piece of paper. “That’s all?”

He leaned back, arms crossed behind his head. “I think you should check out where I found it.”

He jerked a thumb at Terra’s nightstand, which was right next to the head of his bed. Keeping a wary eye on Vanitas, feeling like she would be attacked if she turned her back, she approached it, sliding the drawer open. One side was a mess, filled with various knickknacks and things Terra had collected. The other side held bottle – pill bottles. Frowning, she held one up to the light, rotating it in her hand.

“Sleeping pills,” she whispered.

Her body seized up, as if she was about to smash into a freezing pool. Something heavy tugged at her body as exhaustion swept over her. She knew where Vanitas was going with this, and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to fight him.

He took the paper from her, then flattened it out and held it for both of them to see. “So these words here,” tapping his chin with one hand, he used the other to point out one of those words she hadn’t known before, “they seem to be brand names. Boy, to have such precise measurements and with different brands, he must have used them a lot.”

Faintly, in a voice that was nothing but resigned, she said, “They’re probably for himself, or all of us.”

She knew it wasn’t true. Terra would never subject himself to anything that would render him defenseless, even for a few hours. Ven didn’t need pills; he had the restraints. Master Eraqus too, had a disdain for artificial means of sleep. The pills had to be for her.  Those results must have been obtained from him secretly drugging her.

To be frank, she wasn’t surprised. It actually explained a bit: why Terra insisted on making her tea; how, in the early days when she had refused to sleep, Terra always seemed to know when she would drop; why he had just happened to have those pills to use on her when he and Ven left to stop Vanitas. He must have been an expert at slipping them into her drinks by now. Vaguely, she wondered if her current sleeping routine had been induced by him.

“Do you really believe that?” Vanitas whispered, trailing a finger down her back.

She said nothing.

Vanitas chuckled. “Well, it couldn’t _possibly_ be true.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Terra would _never_ do anything to hurt you.”

His hand moved up to her neck now, planting itself right atop the bruise Terra had left.

“Never, never,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Terra and Ventus would never betray you. They would never leave you, or hurt you, or do anything without your consent. They wouldn’t sneak around, wouldn’t lie to you , wouldn’t try to deceive you . . . No, of course not. I mean, they’re your friends, aren’t they? And friends wouldn’t do that to each other. Friends don’t hurt each other or leave. Not real friends . . . are you crying?”

Dear Light, she was. She couldn’t help it. Vanitas’s words were like baited hooks that her mind couldn’t help but gobble up, only realizing afterwards what a stupid plan that was. They sunk deep into her mind, found themselves a little niche there, and it _hurt_ to try to pull them out. Though she told herself over and over that she wasn’t upset and he was wrong, tears were still gathering in her eyes.

“Shh . . . don’t cry.” His words expressed one emotion, his face the other. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Through her bangs, she glared at him. Of course he had meant to do that.

“Your friends . . . they aren’t the perfect little people you make them out to be. They’re just like me, Aqua. _Exactly_ like me. Only I’m willing to admit it, while they shut their eyes to the truth and pretend everything’s peachy. Why do you play along with them? Admit it, Aqua.” He reached out and wiped the tears from her face. “They’re just like me.”

She turned her head away. “What do you want from me?”

“I thought that was obvious,” he said as he played with a lock of her hair.

“But why me? Why did you choose me?” Her head whipped around, and she looked him straight in the eye . . . only to look away again when she saw the glint in them. “Why am I so important to you? Why me?”

Vanitas frowned. “Don’t you know? You were my first friend – you were my only friend.”

She moved backwards, away from him. “How could we be friends? I didn’t even know you!” she protested. “I never knew you until we went to Silent Hill.”

“You did,” Vanitas said, voice tight. “Just under a different name.”

“Which one?”

“Ventus.”

She closed her eyes. There he went again with his delusional idea that he was really the blond apprentice. No wonder he had been so obsessed with Ven – Vanitas was convinced he was Ven.  How that could possibly work in his mind, she didn’t understand. It didn’t matter though. Aqua knew this was false; Terra had been very insistent about that.

“You don’t believe me.” Vanitas turned his back to her, hands in his hair. “You still don’t believe me.”

Gently, she said, “Think about it, _Vanitas_. How can you be two separate people at once?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Growling in frustration, he paced around the perimeter of Terra’s room.

“Then what do you mean?” she demanded. “I can’t read your mind. I can’t see what you –”

She went silent at the same moment Vanitas stopped pacing. She could see what he meant, she realized. At the church. The same way Vanitas had showed her all those terrible things.

And if Vanitas wanted to show her what he meant, he would have to take her to the church.

Which meant he had to take her outside.

Which meant she could make a break for it.

“You can show me,” she said softly.

“No,” he said. “That’s not a good idea.”

She could see in his eyes that he didn’t trust her, that he had already predicted her plans. That didn’t matter though. She had the advantage of time, all the time in the world to make him trust her for this expedition. Plus, she knew that Vanitas dearly wanted to show her too. Already, she could tell he was torn.

“How else can I understand?” she asked.

This time, he had nothing to say.

“Vanitas . . .” Swallowing her disgust down, she walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder, making him stiffen.

He laid his hand on top of hers, gripping it tight as he stared up at her.

“Let me think about it,” he said.

She let him go. He guided her out of Terra’s room, then sealed the door again with his dark magic before departing completely. Alone, she released all her pent-up tension in one great sigh.

A short time later, when she was at the dining room table, Riku dropped by. She smiled weakly at him, saying, “Vanitas sent you?”

He shook his head. “Just wanted to check on you. He was pretty mad at one point.”

“You heard?”

“No, but,” he gestured at a window, “it started thundering outside. Aqua, what are you to him?”

With no lack of sarcasm, she said, “An old, dear friend. Funny how I never knew that.”

Riku did not smile. He walked over to the other end of the table, drumming his fingers over its surface. Back to her, head turned to the side, silver hair blocking all view of his face except for his nose, he said, “Aqua, I don’t think Vanitas knows the difference between friend and girlfriend.”

“And?”

He looked at her, jaw working as he struggled to deliver what needed to be said. “Romance and friendship are mixed together for him. I’ve tried to explain, but he doesn’t understand the distinction between the two.”

She said, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

He gave a look that was both exasperated and pitying. “Aqua, there are things you would do with a girlfriend that you wouldn’t do with a friend. And it’s pretty obvious that Vanitas doesn’t care for your consent.”

She paled. It felt like she had been hollowed out.

He turned away again, staring at his open hand. “Sooner or later, he’s going to try, and I don’t know how to stop him.”

She trembled as Riku’s proposed future opened up before her, a future that no matter how badly she wanted to, she couldn’t deny was likely. There was at stake than just her freedom now – her dignity, her sanity. She had to get out of here.

She walked over to the window, and stared at the distant church.

That was how. That was her escape.

Now she just had to make it happen.


	26. Chapter 26

Seated at Terra’s bedside, Ven said, “So, there’s nothing you can do?”

“She spoke true,” Yen Sid said. Ven thought he heard the old wizard’s spine popping as he straightened up. “Only love’s first kiss can break the spell.”

Just as he had feared. Ven gave Yen Sid a quiet thanks, then returned to his internal musings. Although Terra had been taken out of the picture, the path forward lay clear: find Aqua. However, Ven was certain that Vanitas had something with whatever had happened to the Land of Departure, and to take Vanitas on alone . . . he wasn’t sure if he could win. If Terra had been by his side, they would have been fine; Terra had been the one to actually defeat Vanitas, after all. Without him though, Ven wasn’t confident of a victory. Especially since his ultimate weapon – his light – had done so little the last time they faced off.

“Why couldn’t it have been me?” he mumbled. Terra would have been fine retrieving Aqua by himself. He would have saved the day without a sweat.

The door creaked open. Blue eyes peeked in, underneath a fringe of spikey hair. Cautiously, as if a sleeping dragon lay inside, Sora opened the door and crept in. His face was guarded, empty of the grief Ven associated with him.

“Vanitas got him too,” Sora said.

“Pretty much, even though he actually meant to get me.”

Sora walked over, held up a hand as if to touch, then lowered it again. “Will he wake up?”

“Not on his own,” Ven said. He drooped a little more. “Not until we bring Aqua here.”

“Aqua . . . Is she okay?” Sora was suddenly speaking louder, more frantically. “She disappeared while me and Kairi were still in the castle and –”

Ven cut him off. “We brought her back. Turned out to be a really bad move. All we did was deliver her into Vanitas’s hands”

He closed his eyes. The darkness in the Land of Departure must have invaded sometime after they had left Aqua there. But when? Had it been after their trip to the Castle of Dreams, where he had spoken to Vanitas? Maybe that’s why Vanitas had been there looking around: he had really been searching for Aqua. More than ever, Ven wished he had smashed his other half’s face in.

He scrunched his face up. That was a very violent and messy thought. Must have been inspired by the hate Vanitas gave him.

“So, Vanitas is there. Do you think he could have Kairi’s heart with him?” Sora asked.

“Maybe.” Before Sora could speak, Ven said, “You can’t come. It’s too dangerous.”

Sora ground his teeth together in a rare show of frustration. “She’s my best friend,” he cried, “and I’m tired of sitting around and waiting for people to do something! Please Ven, I can’t do it. She just lies there day after day and she doesn’t move and no matter how hard I plead she _won’t wake up_!”

Sora had fallen to his knees, hands clasped together as if in prayer as he begged. Ven had to turn his head away, for when he saw the tears dotting the other’s face, his own heart began to crack and break. He had to forcefully remind himself that this was for Sora’s own good and that it was way too dangerous to bring the other boy along. Slowly, a cold frosting expanded over his emotions, as if he had cast a Blizzard spell on them.

“I have to help her,” Sora said. “Please, I’ll stay out of your way, just let me help.”

Quietly, he said, “What you saw in Silent Hill, that was only the beginning. Vanitas can be way worse than that. Trust me.”

“I don’t care,” Sora grated out. “She’s my best friend, and Riku’s still there, too.”

“Sora, you said it yourself!” Ven said. “You only got out of there because Vanitas doesn’t care about you. You’ll get yourself killed!”

“What about Riku?” Sora shrieked, his pitch seeming to go up an octave. “He could be in trouble, too. I _left_ him there! I need to go back, I can’t . . . I can’t . . .”

He stuttered, repeating those words, becoming more and more incoherent with each repetition until he was a wreck on the ground. Again Ven looked away and squeezed his fists. Sora couldn’t come. He couldn’t allow it.

“Sora, I’m going to stop Vanitas,” Ven said. “I’ll save both your friends, promise.”

“Let me help them, too.”

“I can’t.”

Sora wiped his eyes. “Then I’ll help you. If it’s so bad, you shouldn’t be going alone either.”

“Yeah, well, I’m experienced.” Ven forced a smile onto his face, hiding how nervous the prospect actually made him. “There’s no one better suited for this than me. Except Terra.”

“But Terra’s sleeping,” Sora muttered.

Ven sighed, then stood. He put his hand on Sora’s shoulder, looking him in the eye.

“I’ll save your friends. Trust me. Please.”

* * *

He was being followed, and not very stealthily either.

Ven slowed, and waited for Sora to catch up. The brown-haired boy was panting, but looking no less determined, blue eyes hard as flint. He did not flinch when Ven glared at him, tapping his foot in impatience.

“I told you not to come,” Ven said.

“I know,” Sora said.

Ven groaned, armoured hand rubbing the back of his helmet. Sometimes, he wished he was more like Terra, because Sora wouldn’t have dared disobeyed him.

“I’m coming with you,” Sora said, “whether you like it or not.”

“Fine,” Ven snapped. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Bringing Sora along meant that he had to fly slower, as not to leave him behind. He could have anyways, but Ven was certain that Sora would try to follow, and end up getting horribly lost, maybe stranded in space somewhere or on a distant planet, or maybe he would catch up and wander into Silent Hill alone . . . Either way, Ven couldn’t bear the thought. Sora had been through enough already, and he really did want to help. And the slower pace might have actually been for the best, as unlike last time, he wasn’t utterly exhausted by the time they reached the Dwarf Woodlands. On the negative side of things though, they’d taken an extra day.

They spent one night in the Dwarf Woodlands (making sure not to eat any apples offered by old hags), then set off again, marking a course for the Land of Departure.

And what they found made him fall silent.

Mickey was right: the entire world was shrouded in thick fog. You could easily miss a castle in this, even one as big as theirs. Snow covered the ground, cracking under his boots, his footsteps filling in hardly a few minutes after he moved on. But despite the chill freezing his nose, he could still taste darkness. It was everywhere, licking at his skin, jumping back when his light rose up to protect him. He cast a sideways glance at Sora who was shivering, lacking Ven’s protection.

“Here.” Ven unclipped his shoulder piece and handed it to Sora. “Put it on.”

Sora did so, and Ven summoned what had originally been his armour. Being magical, it readjusted itself to fit Sora perfectly. It still had the same colours, the same style. In fact, thanks to their similar builds and heights, it looked nearly identical to how it did when Ven wore it.

“Whoa . . .” Sora stared at his hands, covered in slick metal. “What is this?”

“Keyblade armour,” Ven said. “It’ll help protect you from the darkness.”

“This is so cool!” Like a dog chasing its tail, Sora turned in circles, examining himself. “After this, I’m going to get some. Wait, what about you?”

Ven waved his concerns off. “My heart is made of pure light,” he said. “I don’t need it.”

“Okay, then let’s get going!” Sora rapped himself in the chest with a clang. “Nothing’s going to stop us now.”

They walked, and walked, but nothing came. There was no castle, no training grounds, not even that pile of wood Terra had chopped prior to Sora’s original arrival. Ven knew he was in the right place too, because he had found the river that skirted the training grounds, and the pine woods that surrounded the castle. He knew he was standing right where the castle should be. And yet it wasn’t there.

He stood still, Sora watching him curiously. Castles didn’t just disappear, even with the darkness’s aid. It was still here, it had to be, but he knew it wasn’t just invisible either. It was hidden from him, and the real question was how . . .?

“What happened here?” he murmured.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Sora asked nervously.

“Of course I am!” Ven said. “I’ve lived here all my life.”

Sora held his hands up in a placating manner. “Sorry, I just . . .  it’s just this looks an awful lot like Silent Hill.”

Ven took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. “Sorry for snapping at you. You’re right, it does look like Silent Hill and -”

He stopped short. A memory struck him. Eight months ago, just when they had escaped Silent Hill, he remembered looking down where the town should be and seeing nothing, not even fog. It had disappeared, slipped into another dimension of its own.

That must be what was happening here.

But did that mean this was Vanitas’s doing? That his powers had somehow extended to here?

“It’s here,” he whispered. “Silent Hill’s here.”

“You live there?” Sora asked in confusion. “How?”

Ven shook his head. “No, it’s not supposed to be here. It’s _grown_.”

Sora rubbed his head. “But if Silent Hill’s here, shouldn’t we have seen something by now?”

“You’d think, but the town’s hiding from us. It doesn’t want us to enter, although seeing as how Vanitas wants me, I’m not sure why . . .”

It hit him then. Vanitas wanted him, yes, but he wanted Aqua more, and he knew that Ven would take her away. The town wouldn’t open for him because Vanitas didn’t want him anywhere near her.

And with that thought came an indisputable fact.

Vanitas had Aqua.

The colour drained from his face. He knew that whatever was going on was bad, but he hadn’t thought it was _this_ bad. Aqua . . . how long had he been holding her captive? She might not even be sane by the time they rescued her!

“A-aqua.” His voice trembled, as did his body.

“Ven, what do we do?” Sora asked. “If we can’t get in . . .”

He didn’t need to finish. Without an entry, there was no rescue. Without a rescue, there was no waking Terra. Without that, there was little hope of saving Kairi or Riku, or even defeating Vanitas in the end. They were stuck.

Numbly, Ven pulled out his Wayfinder. Though the fog should have blocked out most light, it still gleamed. The glass was fogged over a bit, so Ven wiped it clean with his thumb, studying his reflection afterwards.

His hand clenched over it. “We’re getting in,” he declared, “whether Vanitas likes it or not.”

He sucked in a big gulp of air, tasting the darkness, hoping that would give him some clue as how to proceed. It was heavy and sat in his stomach, making him feel sluggish and full. At the same time, it ran inside his veins, making the cells nearby prickle with warning, triggering a rush of defensive anger that soon transformed into hate.

 _One, two . . ._ He counted slowly, obeying his Master’s teachings. As Eraqus had said, emotions were often a burden in a fight. Sure, it helped some people – namely Terra – but for someone like Ven, someone who didn’t normally know hate, such a feeling would only hinder him.

 _You can’t keep me out, Vanitas,_ he thought, imagining that he was projecting his thoughts the way an archer let loose an arrow. _She’s not yours. You don’t own her_.

A different part of him spoke up then. _You don’t own this town, either._ We _do._

His keyblade appeared in a flashing, glowing almost pure white. Perhaps reacting to that, or maybe Ven himself was unconsciously making it happen, the fog swirled around them, faster and faster until they were standing in the eye of a storm. Sora backed away, pressing up against Ven’s back while he stood there stubbornly, refusing to be moved.

“Ven, what’s happening?”

He ignored Sora’s question. He raised Wayward Wind in a stroke, and the world flashed with lightning far above.  Red and yellow, it jumped from cloud to cloud, booming with distant thunder.

Into the air, Ven shouted, “You want to accept Vanitas as your master? Fine, but you have to accept me, too!”

The light inside him flared, scratching at his insides, eager to be let out. He did not let it explode out of him as it would have liked, but let it fill his keyblade instead. The blade hummed, shaking.

“Let me in!” Ven cried. “You’re not keeping me out!”

The fog wall built up around them, higher and higher.

“Ven, are you sure about this?” Sora demanded.

“Positive.” He turned his attention back to the hidden town. “Let me in! I’m master of this town too, and I’m ordering you to let me in!”

Cold seeped through his boots, licking at his soles. He looked down where glimmered the faint outline of what appeared to be a keyhole . . .

Without thinking, he stabbed his keyblade straight down.

The tip of the blade disappeared into the ground. The whole thing shifted sideways and then with a sudden jerk, fell into place.

Light shone from the keyblade in beams, bouncing off Sora’s borrowed armour and the bright surface of Ven’s hair. The handle was hot in his hands, nearly melting them, but he didn’t let go, biting through his lip in his efforts to ignore the pain. He could barely taste his own blood, as the light seemed to burn away his senses, until the world was nothing more than a white slate.

And the sirens howled.

But it was different, not a wail as he had remembered. This sound was brief, like a series of trumpets announcing the arrival of a king. And starting from the spot where his keyblade was embedded, the ground began to morph. Grass hardened, turning grey and curling to lie against the ground, becoming asphalt. Around them, shadows began to take shape – not monsters, simply scenery. The bright light died, though the one surrounding his keyblade still remained.

“We’re here,” Sora whispered, sounding like he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or terrified.

Ven yanked his keyblade out of the ground, letting it sit on his shoulder. The white glow still surrounded it, but it slowly faded.

He blinked.

The keyblade he was holding was not Wayward Wind.

This was a pearly white keyblade, unlike his previous keyblade, though blackened around the handle. It had a sleek, smooth appearance to it, and a single tooth at the end shaped like a heart. The interior of the heart was missing a corner, but the rest was coloured a pale red, diluted when compared to the bright red markings on Vanitas’s body suit. Ven held it up, marvelling in its pristine colour and longer reach. When he swiped it though the air, it felt perfectly balanced, as if he had been using it all along.

How . . .?” he whispered.

And the keyblade spoke to him, _Lost Memories._

“That’s your name, huh?” he said, twirling it in his hands. “Why come to me now?”

_So you can do what you must._

He must have looked crazy to Sora, nodding and speaking to something that didn’t seem to be alive. “You’re connected to Silent Hill, aren’t you? You’re like a crown.”

The keyblade did not answer, but vibrated.

Ven, accepting his badge of honour, pointed Lost Memories down the road and shouted, “Light!”

A beam of light shot from the end of the keyblade, cutting through the fog. Half a second after, the fog began to recede. It rolled back from the place the beam of light had been, like a wave going in reverse. The snow-covered road revealed itself, as did the buildings afterwards.  Though it remained foggy behind and beside him, the way forwards was clear.

“How did you do that?” Sora asked.

Ven said, “It’s a special privilege I have. Come on, let’s get going.”

Where they were going, Ven wasn’t entirely sure. Though he, too, was a god here, that did not mean he was as powerful as Vanitas. First off, Vanitas had much more experience than he did. Also, this town was built on darkness, something Ven couldn’t touch. He was an angel descending into hell, the yin to Vanitas’s yang.

They made it halfway down the road before the first of the monsters appeared. They were hounds, green-furred, eyeless, snuffling as a pack gathered in an alleyway on the edge of the fog. Long canines flashed, dripping with saliva above black gums. Sora took a step back, his breathing heavy with fear, although he did not hesitate to summon his keyblade.

One hound – the alpha, perhaps, if they worked that way – stepped forwards. Fur bristling, growling fiercely, it approached the two boys as the rest of the pack fanned out behind it. They moved almost silently, only betrayed by the snow’s crinkling.

Ven swiped Lost Memories through the air. “I don’t have time for this. Just leave us alone!”

The keyblade pulsed with agreement, burning white.

Growling, the pack drew closer.

Then stopped.

The lead hound paused mid-step, ears perked. As if curious, it cocked its head, staring with nonexistent eyes straight at Ven. The other hounds seemed similarly puzzled, whining amongst each other.

“Huh?” Ven straightened up out of his fighting stance, baffled. “What’s going on?”

The lead hound whimpered now, licking its lips, turning its head in submission. It still held one paw in the air.

“Uh, scram,” Ven said. “Go away!”

His keyblade hummed, repeating his order in its own secret language. The hounds whined, drawing close together like a sports team in a huddle.

And they left. Just like that.

For the next two minutes, Ven and Sora stayed where they were, expecting them to come charging back. But one minute passed, then the other without incident. Slowly, they lowered their keyblades, accepting the fact that there wouldn’t be a fight this time.

“It was that easy?” Sora said. “You just have to tell them to leave?”

“Only for me,” Ven answered. “I’m the only one who can do it.”

He looked down the road, to where his former light spell’s range finally ended and fog cloaked the world. He hadn’t even been here an hour yet, and already things had changed drastically. He stared into the fog, then down at his keyblade, accepting the truth: Silent Hill was no longer the monster it had once been.

Setting his jaw, he took out his Wayfinder, clipped it to his keyblade, and marched forwards.

This time, things were going to be _very_ different.


	27. Chapter 27

Head heavy and black dots swimming in his vision, Terra groaned and struggled to rise. Whatever poison had been in that apple had been very, very powerful. He could still taste it: that sweet fruit, with a bitter aftertaste that screamed that something was wrong. If only he had realized that before he ate it.

He remained lying down, staring up at the sky, waiting for the world to resettle itself. It was only after an generous amount of time passed that he realized that nothing was wrong with his vision: the sky really was pitch-black. Darker than that, actually, for within the darkness, he could see even blacker clumps floating around.

What was going on?

He sat up, and his eyes widened. No longer was he in the Dwarf Woodlands, or any place he recognized. The world had been reduced to a flat disc, with him in the middle. He dragged his hand along its surface, concluding it was glass. Another glance and he knew: he was in a Station of Awakening.

Shit! Had Vanitas dragged him back to the church?

He stood hurriedly, grabbing hold of Earthshaker. Legs quivering with tension, he sunk into a fighting stance, searching the place for the black-haired demon. However, Vanitas wasn’t here, neither in the physical or aesthetic sense. No, the picture on this station was his own; the heart he peered upon was his.

Terra stretched elaborately, rubbing his elbow afterwards. Okay, he was in the Station of Awakening. So, he was probably asleep in the real world, recovering from the effect of the old lady’s poison. The question now was why was he here? It wasn’t like he visited this place every time he slept.

“Err, hello?” His voice echoed, and Terra strained his ears, hoping to hear the disembodied voice that usually filled this place. But he was answered with silence.

“Great,” he muttered. He swung his arms back and forth, whistling an unrealistically cheery tune before deflating. Well, this was turning out to be boring.

He turned back to the glass mural. His friends were there, of course, their images brighter than even his own. Close to the circle’s circumference was a picture of Eraqus also, dim and neglected. Terra just decided to pretend it wasn’t there.

Then, he felt something: forewarning. Someone else was here. He kept his movements calm and casual, creating the illusion that whatever intruder was here had caught him unaware. Still whistling, he patrolled the edges of the station, letting Earthshaker’s shaft rest on his shoulder.

Then, a change of step. Instead of forwards, his right foot stepped sideways.

And he pivoted round on that foot, swinging Earthshaker down to point at his foe. It took him merely a millisecond to confirm that it wasn’t Aqua or Ven, and then he fired a dark bolt which whipped through the air like a comet.

_Something_ swivelled out of its way. The creature was on the opposite side of the station, facing him. It had a large, muscular figure, with broad shoulders and an incredibly thin waist. Wait, could he even describe that as a waist? The creature had no legs. It was more like a genie’s tail, connecting the creature to the station.

“What are you?” Terra demanded, stomping closer. “Tell me!”

The creature’s bowed head rose. Then, opaque yellow eyes opened.

“Heartless,” he growled. What it was doing here, he wasn’t quite sure. Oh well. It would probably make for a fun fight.

He charged, only for the creature to sink into the ground and reappear on the other side of the station. A similar attack was met with the same response, and then again.

This time, Terra didn’t attack, only frowned in confusion. Heartless _never_ ran from a fight. They were attracted to hearts and the keyblade; that’s all they thought about, all they were capable of understanding. For this creature to refuse to fight him . . . it couldn’t be a heartless. So, what was it?

“What are you?” he asked again, hostility gone.

Arm crossed, tail swaying back and forth, the creature stared at him.

And it _spoke_.

“You.”

Terra blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

It pointed straight at him. “You.”

“Okay, so you clearly represent some part of me . . . though what it is I have no idea.” As he spoke, Terra backed away. “Uh, got a name or anything?”

“Guardian,” the creature said.

Guardian? Okay, he liked the sound of that. It didn’t sound particularly malicious. “Okay, ‘Guardian’, are you the reason I’m here?”

It nodded. “I have watched for a long time. Now, I take action.”

_Please be against Vanitas!_ Terra would never turn down an ally against that guy, especially when the ally was part of himself and thus, trustworthy.

“What do you plan to do?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“Take over.”

A beat passed.

“What?” he said.

The guardian did not answer. At least not with words.

Though it had virtually declared its intent to attack, it still caught Terra by surprise. The guardian charged, lightning-fast, a cone of dark energy heading its advance. He barely twisted out of the way, opponent passing so close that he lost a bit of hair. The guardian screeched to a stop and then, teeth bared in an ugly smile, turned back to face him. Fists slammed into the ground, raising a column of dark pillars.

Meanwhile, all Terra could feel was confused and betrayed. This thing, it was a part of him – and it was attacking him! What in Hades was going on?

The guardian was right in front of him, fist coming high over its head as he swung. The blow, which Terra thankfully blocked, was as strong as a swing from Earthshaker. Further evidence that this creature was, in some way, born from him.

“What are you doing?” Terra cried. He grunted as he blocked another blow. “I thought you were a guardian or something.”

“Yes,” the guardian intoned, its haunting voice seeming to slither into his ears.

“Then why . . .?”

“You are not strong enough.” It came down with both fists at once, forcing Terra’s keyblade into his chest. “You cannot protect them!”

That last word was accompanied by the strongest punch yet. It blew by Earthshaker, straight into Terra’s midsection, sending him stumbling back.

“Weak,” the guardian said. “You are alpha, yet you let them take control. You let them make decisions, ones that you should be making.”

The guardian came at him with a vicious slash, and Terra only managed to call upon his armour in time.

“And because of that . . .”

Claws ripped through the metal, leaving four deep grooves behind.

“. . . They get hurt!”

The guardian snarled, reaching for his head as if to tear it off, and Terra, for the first time in many months, felt true _fear_.

_It’s trying to kill me. It actually wants me dead._

No. Nonononono. He couldn’t die. If he died, who would take care of Aqua and Ven? This thing, it could be a guardian, or it could be a liar.

He’d be damned if Aqua and Ven were the ones to discover that.

He framed a picture of them in his mind, held it tight, and in his pocket, the Wayfinder grew warm. And when the guardian’s fingers were an inch from his neck, he lashed out with his own dark claws.

No blood fell, but the guardian hissed and fell back. He leapt, closing the distance, tackling the creature around the waist.  Just as he had done in the Pridelands, he clawed at the other as they went down, feeling his darkness sink deep into the other’s flesh, until at last it sunk into the ground.

The guardian emerged a short distance away, form hazy. It stretched and contorted, arching its back as it moaned. Then, when it was all over, what stood before Terra was a copy of him. There were some choice differences; the guardian had fangs that could be seen when his lips parted, and blazing yellow eyes that cut through the gloom.

The guardian said, “You cannot protect them.”

“And you can?” Terra shot back.

But the guardian was ready. “I have. When you were enchanted by Maleficent, it was not you who came to your friends’ rescue, but I. She awoken me, and I answered.”

He remembered then what his friends had told him, about how he had been possessed by a heartless beast. That must have been this thing! And as it so happened, Terra remembered what else they had told him . . .

“You hurt them!” he exclaimed. “You attacked Ven! You’re the reason for those bruises on Aqua’s throat.”

The guardian did not deny it, but merely dipped its head in acknowledgement.

“How’s that protecting them?” he hollered. Sparks of darkness ran up and down his arms. “Justify that!”

“An alpha cannot defend its pack if the pack does not understand who leads it,” the guardian said. “They do not understand their place. I taught them.”

“Their _place_?” he echoed. He tried to force disgust into his tone, but it didn’t quite make it, because part of that idea sounded . . .

No. Stop. Focus on this.

“They need to know who is in charge,” the guardian said. “If they had, Aqua would not have followed you. If I were in control, Ven would still be with us, and they both would be safe.”

“You don’t know that,” Terra said.

“I do. You are weak, held back by this archaic concept of _morality_. Their protection is all that matters.” The guardian’s outstretched hand curled into a fist. “I understand that. You don’t.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do!” he shouted.

“Then you would have killed Maleficent,” the guardian said, “and Vanitas, and that old hag who brought you here. You would terminate any that stepped near them.”

“They would never forgive me,” he said. “Aqua and Ven, they’re good people. They wouldn’t want me to be like that.”

“What they want does not matter.”

There it was: the divide between them. That was what separated him from this guardian. “Of course it does!” he snarled. “How else do I make them happy?”

“Their happiness does not matter.”

He growled, feeding his rage, letting it simmer over and flood into his veins. It did matter! He knew it did. He didn’t care what this thing said. Although it, too, wanted to protect his friends, Terra had heard enough. It was an enemy.

He charged.

* * *

Aqua gasped as she was pulled out of the memory. She didn’t remember curling up into a ball, but that’s the position she found herself in. Her body ached, as if that beating she had taken from Master Xehanort had actually been real. She could almost feel bruises breaking out on her skin, dying it a mottled colour.

Sitting up took work, as her muscles trembled when any weight was put on them. _Just a memory_ , she told herself. _I’m not actually hurt_. Her body didn’t seem to know that though, and when she tried to push with her legs, a vicious spasm tore through them.

Her chin almost smashed into the ground. The quick movement was enough to drive the wind out of her, gassing her. As if that were a cue, the muscles in her chest began to throb, like someone had just clobbered them with a hammer.

A hand touched her. She flinched automatically. But the pain she expected did not arrive; it was not Xehanort, just Vanitas.

“Shh, just relax.”

She was crouched on the ground like an animal, him next to her. He caressed her chin, then moved onto her cheek which he stroked softly. She could feel the heat radiating from him and moved closer, a terrible ache making itself known. In the heat of the so-called ‘training’ with Xehanort, it had been wiped from her brain. Now, it was back: that yawning void, that feeling of emptiness and being incomplete, _loneliness_ ; that feeling which haunted her day in and out, which gnawed at her other emotions until it was the only thing she could feel; that feeling that had stalked her for years . . .

No. Not her. It was just foreign memories. She wasn’t that lonely. She had Terra, Ven and the Master. This feeling was not hers.

But it was his.

She looked up at him, pity swirling within her. This was why. This was why he had been so set on turning her and Terra into his ‘friends’. He wasn’t a monster; just a very lonely child with a god complex. For the first time since she had met him, she couldn’t stir up any feelings of hate towards him.

_Just a child, like Ven_. Vanitas’s connection with her best friend was still something she had to work out. She had seen his side of the story, the (maybe faked) memory of Xehanort extracting him from Ven, but Terra had insisted that wasn’t true. Who did she believe?

“You were there,” Vanitas said to her, “every dream, every night I walked in Ventus’s shoes, you were there. You always took care of him. And me. You took care of me, too.”

Yes. All of this was actually so logical. It made perfect sense that Vanitas, a neglected boy who had never tasted love, would latch onto the first one that offered it to him, even if it was only in his dreams.  Or had it been? For if Ven truly was his other half, had she only been taking care of Ven or, indirectly, both of them?

_A darker version of Ven,_ she thought, but maybe even that was too much. Was Vanitas simply darker, or more extreme? Because now, she thought she could see aspects of Ven in all of Vanitas’s behaviour. Ven, like a puppy, craved attention and love; Vanitas was ravenous for it. Ven was willing to do anything to protect them; at least some degree of reasoning for her imprisonment was based upon Vanitas wanting to protect her. Ven liked to always be around them and wanted to be friends forever; Vanitas just took that to its radical conclusion.

“You are everything to me,” he said. He crawled into her lap and she found herself unable to move, but not because of fear. “You’re all I have.”

He buried his face in her shoulder, breathing harshly. And she didn’t pull away. Instead, she worked her fingers into his hair, and the other hand went around to his back. She held him, just like that. And she . . . she rubbed his back, rocked him gently, just as she would for Ven.

He choked suddenly. Was he _crying_?

Whatever the answer was, it didn’t stop her own eyes from burning. But these were not tears of sympathy, but regret. For even though Vanitas wasn’t a monster, that still didn’t change the reality of her situation. It didn’t change what she had to do. To Vanitas, this must have been a breakthrough. To her, this was an act. Her interest in his background, her cooperation on the way here, even to some degree, the way she comforted him now, was all just a ploy to get him off-guard. It hurt when she thought of how distraught he would be when he realized that.

He stiffened, like a pointer that had just spotted prey. She was about to ask him what was wrong, when he answered first.

“Ventus,” he growled. “He’s here.”

He stood, Void Gear materialising. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll take care of this.”

“No!” She lunged at him, grabbing his arm from the ground. She forced a smile onto her face, doing her best not to stutter. “Not now. Not after this. Stay with me.”

“You know I want to,” he said, “but I can’t. Ventus needs to be dealt with.”

The hot whip of panic tore into her. Vanitas was going to kill him. He was going to kill Ven. No. No, no, no! She couldn’t let that happen. If Ven died while she was here, she would never forgive herself.

Her mind fumbled for a solution, thoughts dying even when they were only half-formed. There was only one thing she knew for certain: the only thing that would draw Vanitas away from Ven was herself.

But he already had her.

_No,_ her mind said, _not all of me._

Without even thinking about it, acting merely on primal instinct, she pulled Vanitas down and smashed her lips against his.

The kiss stalled there. Their lips were touching, great, but nothing was happening because she had _no clue what to do next_. She had never done anything but hold a guy’s hand before – and that had been in a completely non-romantic way with Terra and Ven! A small voice suddenly made itself known, wailing over the loss of her first kiss. But she silenced it with pure will, afterwards reminding herself over and over that this wasn’t real, that it was fake and it was for Ven, it was for Ven . . .

Vanitas awoke. Where her lips remained still, his moved. She let him guide the kiss, too ashamed to do anything more than follow. If Vanitas noticed her reluctance, he gave no sign, nor did he slow.

It started out gentle, but the intensity swiftly increased. His hand tangled itself in her hair, pulling her close, while his other hand danced along the bottom of her shirt, threatening to slip inside. His weight fell onto her, crushing her into the ground. And when she squeaked from the impact, his tongue slipped into her mouth.

It was awkward, and _gross_. Why people enjoyed this was beyond her. She certainly wasn’t enjoying the feel of Vanitas’s tongue dragging along the roof of her mouth; no, to her it was like a slug was crawling inside there, leaving a slimy trail behind. But she endured. She did not push him away, or turn her head, or give any outward sign of her dislike. No, all of that was caged on the inside, held back only by the mantra: _This is for Ven; this is for Ven . . ._

His mouth suddenly detached from hers. Hovering a few inches above her, he panted heavily, face flush with exertion and need. The sharp planes of his body dug into hers, pinning it in place. His one hand had actually gone into her shirt by this time, tracing the bottom of her bra.

He swallowed. “I . . . I . . .”

She could see it there: he wanted to continue. Yet at the same time, his eyes were glazing over as his mind turned elsewhere. What they were doing, it wasn’t enough; it wouldn’t keep him distracted.

She had to give more.

She closed her eyes, shivering. What _was_ more? She knew about kissing, and she knew about sex, but not much between. She had spent her life either as a young child with her parents (which, really, was the only reason she even knew about kissing) or at the Land of Departure. Master Eraqus wasn’t exactly comfortable with answering those types of question, and there was absolutely no way she would ask _Terra_ for answers. All she knew was what she had read in books, but so far, this experience had been nothing like those.

“I’m sorry,” Vanitas said, sincere. “We’ll have to do this later.”

“No!” She tried to cling onto him, to keep him from standing. “Vanitas, please, not later –”

He pried her fingers loose. “I’m sorry. Stay in the church.”

He stood, turning his head away. Aqua, seeing she was about to lose him and thus Ven to him, panicked. Her mind jumped to the only other thing she knew, and she acted accordingly.

She reached between his legs.

He jumped back. For a few tense seconds, they stared at each other. Vanitas was breathing heavily, eyes wide and nervous, fingers twitching. It wasn’t what she had expected. That was not lust she saw in his eyes, not primarily. No, the dominate emotions there were confusion, and fear.

_Riku was wrong_ , she realized. She didn’t think he was wrong that Vanitas had a sexual design on her, but he was wrong that Vanitas would force himself on her. At the very, very least, he wasn’t ready to take that step. Neither of them were. But if they didn’t, Ven would die and . . .

Oh god, she was disgusting.

But it was for Ven. She had to do this for him.

Vanitas stepped towards her, sunk to his knees. His hands went on her shoulder, gently squeezing.

“Do you want this?” he asked.

She looked at him, and nodded.


	28. Chapter 28

In this town of ice and snow, they were a beacon. The light of Lost Memories cut through the fog like a lighthouse’s beam, beckoning lost souls inward. However, this call went unanswered, and Ven and Sora found themselves unmolested as they traveled the deserted streets of Silent Hill.

To Ven, the town had taken on a sort of haunting beauty. The way the buildings jutted out of the fog, sheer, grey and black against their snowy backdrop, became a source of fascination. Neon signs flickered in the distance, fighting bravely against the darkness that smothered them; he couldn’t help but notice that when he approached they lit up for real, only to die again at his departure. Ice coated the trees, turning their branches into abstract sculptures. And all around, snow, dancing in the wind, left glittering trails in its wake.

The fog was there, as it always was, but it was no longer suffocating. It felt to Ven like it was keeping its distance, gathering at the edge of an unknown radius, like children crowding to get a closer view of a stage. And when Ven would lift his keyblade and point it in some direction, the fog lifted obediently, opening the way.

That was not the only reaction to his presence either. Streetlamps glowed brighter when he neared; awnings shuddered at his passing, as if whispering to themselves. The town really was alive in its own way, and it recognized him.

He stopped at one crossroad, Sora following suit. A light dusting of snow covered his helm, permitted to stay by a lack of combat. Still, Sora had his keyblade out, and he persisted on moving stiffly.

Ven looked down one road, then down the other two choices he had. All looked the same. Though he had accepted his connection to Silent Hill, he still was not sure how to navigate this place. He was sure it was more than memory that had guided Vanitas. Indeed, it seemed at times one was able to teleport in Silent Hill, whether it be by your own whim, or the town’s.

Thankfully, he did have a guide. He reached into his pocket and took out Terra’s Wayfinder. Back in the day, Terra had said he could track Aqua with it; Ven was hoping to do the same.

 Inside the Wayfinder’s glass orb, he could see magic swirling. Still, there was more to its contents. Though it couldn’t be seen, Ven knew some of Terra’s light was inside; he could taste it. It had been placed there by Naminé as a guard against the town’s darkness and more importantly, Vanitas. Back before Terra could understood his darkness, the Wayfinder had stopped Vanitas from simply seizing control of the eldest apprentice. Normally, Ven wouldn’t have dreamed of taking it (as if Terra would let him), but Terra was in a coma. He couldn’t do anything. Plus, unlike when he had first gotten it, Terra was in control of his darkness. Vanitas wouldn’t be taking over him.

“Take me to her,” he said to the Wayfinder.

The magic swirled inside the orb, turning lighter. Then, he felt a tug deep inside him.

“This way,” he said to Sora, dropping the Wayfinder back into his pocket. Sora followed him, and the two continued their journey through Silent Hill.

“Where are we going?” Sora asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Wherever Aqua is.”

Sora looked at the ground. “Kairi and Riku . . .”

Ven bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to dash Sora’s hopes, but he didn’t want to falsely raise them either. “It depends on how things go with Aqua,” he said. “If we can get her out without much trouble, then we’ll stick around and look for your friends. But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Then when are we going to save _my_ friends?” Sora hissed. “You two keep saying you will, but then you go chasing after other things instead!”

“We’re trying!” Ven said. “But it’s not like Vanitas is sitting around waiting for us. I don’t even know what he’s up to anymore!”

“Didn’t stop you from dropping everything and going after Aqua.” Sora spoke so lowly that he probably hadn’t meant for Ven to hear, but he did anyways.

“What do you want me to do?” he shouted, whirling around to face the other boy. His light thrummed inside him, making the hairs on his arm stand upright. “I don’t know where Riku is; I don’t know where Vanitas hid Kairi’s heart. I don’t know _anything_.”

He choked suddenly, eyes beginning to water.  “All I know is that he has Aqua. That’s all.”

The wind was refreshingly cold on his skin, serving to draw away some of the heat that had gathered there. Ven hadn’t even realized it up to now, but beads of sweat had formed under his clothes, making them feel clammy and damp. His chest was tight, like an iron band had been fastened around it, and the tension had forced blood to rush out of there and into his head with a dizzying effect.

Yet when a tear finally fell, it was not his.

“I’m sorry,” Sora blubbered. “I didn’t mean any of that. I’m just . . . it’s just . . . Kairi just lies there day after day, and I can’t do anything. And I know it’s all my fault, because I was weak and . . .”

“It’s not your fault,” Ven said quietly.

“It is!” Sora nearly shrieked that. “Vanitas only caught her because she came after me. If I hadn’t been there, she would have gotten out, and she would still be awake and . . . it’s my fault. Everything is. Her, Riku, _Aqua_ . . .”

“Sora, stop it!” he hissed. His arms were stiff at his side, fists clenched. He couldn’t keep listening to this, not when it wasn’t true.

“It’s all my fault!” Sora said. “If it wasn’t for me, then Riku and Kairi wouldn’t have been dragged into this, and neither would have you guys . . .”

“That’s definitely not true,” Ven said. “Vanitas –”

He trailed off, eyes wide.

He had heard the sound of metal scraping against rock.

He backed right into Sora’s armoured suit, pushing the other boy back. The contact finally broke Sora out of his fit of self-loathing, and he picked up on Ven’s fear right away. Sora stayed behind him, shakily raising his keyblade.

“Light!” Ven barked, pointing Lost Memories in the direction he had heard the sound.

His keyblade vibrated as the light coursed through the shaft. It escaped the tip in a small beam, like a laser. All around the beam’s diameter, the fog rolled away, packing into an ever-thicker cloud as the circle of clear space around the beam expanded. It was like watching the birth of an eye in a hurricane, accompanied by the same sort of thrill and terror.

The fog swirled, revealed more and more.

And right there, standing tall in the road, was the Bogeyman.

It was exactly how he remembered: humanoid, tall and beefy, a pyramid-shaped helmet atop its shoulders. It wore nothing except a bloody butcher’s apron. Adding to that image was the Great Knife, a rusted blade longer than Ven was tall. Like an executioner of old, that’s how it appeared, with the same apathetic demeanour and judging stare.

That’s what it did. Stare.

Then it lurched forwards.

“No, go away!” Ven screeched. He aimed Lost Memories at the monster, making it pulse as it had when he had chased away the hounds.

But though Ven had mastery over them, it was not the same for this monster. The Bogeyman ignored his commands, persisting in stumbling forwards. Its head was slightly turned, so that the slits in its helmet faced them, allowing it to get an eyeful.

For each step it took, Ven and Sora took three back, until they were nearly jogging. Finally, Ven snapped out of his trance, and grabbed Sora, shrieking, “Run!”

They took off. The Bogeyman did not break its shambling gait, but Ven knew it would be right behind them. It was one of the ‘delights’ of this place. They ran into the home, Ven lacking the precious seconds to even lift the fog. And though they were swift and lithe, he swore he heard the Bogeymen right behind them.

A sign lit up as they approached, a blinking neon arrow pointing at the entrance, as if shouting ‘In here!’ Like moths to a flame, they veered straight towards it, Ven swiftly unlocking the door and yanking it open.

It seemed to be some sort of clothing store, old and abandoned. Motes of dust floated in the single ray of a cracked light. They scattered as Ven ran through them, pulling Sora along.

Panting, Sora asked, “Now what?”

Before he could answer, the entire store shook.

The door to the outside bulged, groaning as some great weight was thrown into it. The force disappeared, allowing the door to return to normal, but then it shuddered again. And it didn’t only shudder, but splintered as the Bogeymen hacked into it.

Dazed by the sight, Ven forgot about Sora, and thus jumped when the other boy shouted, “Ven, over here!”

Sora was pointing at an air duct in the corner, large enough for them both to travel through. With no further comment, Sora hopped on top of a counter and using his keyblade as a lever, started to pry the grate from the wall.

Meanwhile, the Bogeyman had just stepped over the threshold.

Ven tossed a light spell at it, just to buy Sora some time. The Bogeymen staggered, reeling back as if Ven had thrown a desk at it, but kept coming. The knife screeched, making a deep groove in the wood underneath it, striking as a pen line on a piece of paper.

“Sora, hurry up!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Sora cried. He’d gotten about half the grate off at this point.

The Bogeyman was too close. Ven could see it shifting its grip, preparing to raise its knife in a mighty swing. With a wild, adrenaline-fueled cry, he lunged, stabbing forwards; maybe, if he got one good hit this would be over and they would be safe –

The Bogeyman grabbed his keyblade.

It swung that instead - with Ven still holding onto the other end. By the time it occurred to him to let go, it was too late. He was lifted right off his feet, flung to the other side of the room into a collection of manikins the way a bowling ball smashed into pins. They all fell, some on him, some beneath. A few centimetres away from the pile, a decapitated head rolled to a stop, artificial eyes staring right at him.

The Bogeyman stared.

Then turned towards Sora.

 _It’s here for Sora!_ This, Ven knew with absolute certainty. He struggled, pushing at the pile of manikins with all his might, screaming, “Sora, get out of here!”

Sora fumbled his keyblade at that moment, and the grate, hanging on by just a corner, fell back against the wall. The boy turned jerkily, instantly seizing up at the sight of the monster.

“Sora, go! _Run_!”

Sora snapped back into action, pulling the rest of the grate off with his bare hands just as Ven kicked the last manikin off. The other boy hesitated, looking back at Ven, who only again screamed for Sora to flee. With what might have been a shaky nod, Sora dove into the air duct, just a second before the Bogeyman tried to grab him.

How long had it been since he had last breathed? Ven didn’t know, but it felt like an eternity. His lungs felt sore, as if he had just been running a marathon. Still, he breathed easily as the Bogeyman blankly stared at the spot where Sora had disappeared.

Only for his heart to stop as the Bogeyman chopped _through_ the wall.

Dust rose in a grey cloud, making Ven cough. When it cleared, he saw the Bogeyman standing in front of a crevice in the wall, the blade of its knife inside.

It pulled the knife out.

It was bloody.

“ _No_!” He threw himself at the monster. He couldn’t lose someone to this town, not again. Sora was still alive. He had to be alive. He _must_ be alive.

His pulse roared through his ears, making him deaf to his own cry. Screaming, he swung at the Bogeyman, who blocked with his own blade, looking almost curiously at him. A second strike was deflected the same way. Then a third. Then a fourth.

With a cry of frustration, Ven threw his keyblade. It smacked the Bogeyman right in its helmet, bouncing off crazily to the side. Panting, hunched over, Ven stood there, waiting for the monster to make its next move.

The Bogeyman raised its knife . . .

And turned back to the wall.

“Stop!” Light, why? Why was it still attacking that spot? Hadn’t it done enough?! Ven lunged, fingers automatically curling around his keyblade’s shaft as it returned to him. His momentum carried him, and his keyblade went up –

Then down again. Right into the Bogeyman’s back.

He had never heard it scream before. Now, though, if asked, he could tell you that it was a horrible, shrill sound, like nails scraping against a chalkboard. The keyblade had only sunk about the width of his forearm before being stopped by pure muscles, but that still brought the Bogeyman down to one knee.

He yanked his keyblade free, splattering the floor with black blood. It congealed, bubbling thickly, surface rippling as the Bogeyman pushed itself to its feet with the knife as support. It turned to face Ven, spine arched slightly as if exhausted. But if the monster was tired, it certainly didn’t show when it lifted its knife.

He dove to the side, tucking into a roll as the knife passed over him. It sliced into the counter, tossing the upper half into the air. A shower of wood splinters fell upon the ground, inches away from where Ven waited.

The next blow pulverized the pile of manikins Ven had hid in before. Then a poor table that had only been holding clothes. Then the door. By this time, Ven was backpedalling into the street, arms held out for balance. Space and agility were the key to surviving a fight against this thing. That, he knew.

Once outside, the Bogeyman seemed to hesitate, as if thinking about going after Sora. Ven shouted at it, made faces, anything he could think of to distract it.

“Come on!” he cried. “I bet your master would be happy if you caught me.”

Come to think of it, where was Vanitas? Ven would have thought his other half would have been stalking him since the moment of his arrival. Yet he had seen no signs of the other boy. What was keeping him?

The Bogeyman did not move. It continued to stand there. Waiting for something maybe? Ven didn’t know.

He lowered his keyblade, confused as to why –

He heard something behind him.

There was no time to dodge. Before he could even look, the flat of some blade smashed into his side, and he could _feel_ his ribs bend under the force. He skidded across the street, losing a bit more skin with each inch, his arms soon becoming a red mess. He gasped in pain, but not from that, but the nerves that were firing all over his chest, centered at his throbbing ribs. He tried once to stand, and the blast of pain was enough to stop him from trying again.

“C-curaga!” he hissed.

Did it work? It certainly didn’t feel like it. Pins and needles were creeping their way up his side; his skin felt like it had been scraped off by sandpaper.

He raised his head, eyeing his new attacker. At first, he was confused because hadn’t the Bogeyman been in front of him before? Then, he looked sideways, saw it _again_ and finally remembered what he saw when Terra had fought Vanitas in the Station of Awakening.

There had never been just one Bogeyman.

It was not the Great Knife that this Bogeyman wielded, but a thinner blade. It was curved upwards, keen, covered in blood and rust. His own blood? Probably not, but Ven couldn’t help but glance at his formerly torn flesh.

He forced himself to stand, holding his ribs, hunched over so far his hands could nearly touch the ground. The knife-wielding Bogeyman approached first, followed by its brother. Ven tried to hold Lost Memories, but with his slouched position and single hand, he couldn’t quite manage to lift it. The keyblade remained slanted downwards, tip resting on the ground.

The first blow came, and he barely staggered back in time. The second skimmed the edge of Lost Memories, making his entire body shudder. And there was no third one, because the Bogeyman, close now, simply reached out and wrenched his keyblade away. It went spinning through the air, embedding itself in a wall nearby.

Before Ven could even think of summoning it back, the Bogeyman grabbed his throat.

It lifted him high into the air. He could only thrash wildly, clawing at the monster’s thick flesh. Even if his nails had been able to gain some purchase, he knew it was hopeless; a little pain wouldn’t stop it. He reached for the light within him, tossing it out at his foe, and though the Bogeyman groaned, the grip only _tightened_.

 _No, please no!_ He couldn’t go down, not when Terra, Aqua and everyone else were relying on him. He tried to order the Bogeyman to release him, but all that came out was a gurgle.

Holding him at arm’s length, the Bogeyman turned its helmet slightly and through the slits, Ven thought he caught glimpse of an amber eye. As if reading his mind, the vice upon his neck tightened, threatening to pulverize everything within. He was sure that had he been able to see it, the Bogeyman would be smirking.

He blasted it with more light. Then more. Yet the Bogeyman did not release him. Black coated the fringes of his vision, steadily sweeping inwards. He couldn’t feel his limbs anymore. With the last rational thought he had, he groped about for light, for _any_ light.

Right before he lost consciousness, in his pocket, Terra’s Wayfinder burned.


	29. Chapter 29

Aqua choked back the last of her bile, still in shock. She had . . . she had . . . she could feel it festering in her stomach, like poison. She could barely swallow, her throat feeling thick and swollen. She wanted nothing more than to take a bar of soap and stuff it down her throat. Maybe, then, it would clear away some of this _filth_.

She felt dirty everywhere, like she had taken a clump of dirt and rubbed it into her skin. Like she had devoured a bowl of mud. She wished she was still sick, so that she could empty her stomach without any awkward questions. As it was though, she knew she couldn’t, not with him so close. Not with Ven out there.

Vanitas was in front of her, panting as he came down from his high. The cords in his legs were taut, and drops of sweat made their way down the contours of his muscles. He had one hand tangled in her hair; the other hand lay between her shoulder blades, right above some stinging cuts, made when he, in his enthusiasm, had accidentally clawed her back. When she tried to shift away, he held her firm, as if hoping they could go for a second round.

This time, she didn’t check her strength. She tore herself out of his grasp, crawling backwards, fighting the urge to shudder. He followed, of course, smiled at her innocently like a child as his bodysuit reformed. Seeing that made her feel even worse, as if _she_ had taken advantage of _him_. She tried to stop thinking about what had just happened, but it was very difficult when he was there right in front of her.

It was even harder when he started _talking_ about it.

“That was great,” he said breathlessly. “Better than I thought it would be.”

Her mouth twitched. That was the closer thing to a smile she could fake.

“You haven’t done it with Terra and Ven, right?” Not needing her answer, he rushed right ahead. “Then I guess that means I’m the most important person to you now!”

Yes. That was right. She held the sarcasm back. How lovely, being best ‘friends’ with her . . .

No. That wasn’t true. She’d initiated things. She hadn’t said no. It wasn’t . . . she had consented. It wasn’t his fault, even if she hadn’t really wanted it, even if the only reason she had offered was because Ven was in danger. He hadn’t raped her.

(It was so much easier to deal with when it wasn’t rape)

He laughed, using _Ven’s_ voice. “I knew it, I knew it!” he raved. “They couldn’t stop us. Ventus couldn’t break our connection, even if he shoved his way into the middle. Our connection’s _unbreakable_.”

He reached up to her neck, where her Wayfinder still dangled. By this time, she had tossed away the collar, replacing it with a string. But when Vanitas touched it, it seemed to constrict, as if she had only tightened the collar.

“Unbreakable,” he murmured.

He leaned back and held his hand out, palm up. Darkness swirled in his hand, making her yelp and jump away. It was only for a second though. Then the darkness was gone, and its place was a red . . . something.

No, not just something.

To put it bluntly, it was junk. Shards of glass, all different shades, had been fused together into a leaf-like shape. There were five of these pieces, all connected in the center by a hunk of shaved-off metal. The edges of the glass were ugly and jagged, looking like they would draw blood if held too tight. Off one leaf was a string of rough twine, long enough that Vanitas would be able to hang the thing around his neck.

It was absolutely hideous, but she still recognized it.

It was a Wayfinder.

Not one of her Wayfinder though; this one looked like it had been constructed by Vanitas using whatever miserable scraps he could find. It was sad-looking, like a wilted rose in a faded vase, nothing compared to the artful Wayfinders she had made for her friends. Yet Vanitas had it cradled within his hands like it was a piece of his soul as he anxiously waited for her reaction.

“What do you think?” he demanded.

“It’s . . .” She didn’t know what to say.

“Yes?” Sitting cross-legged, Vanitas shuffled closer to her.

“You made this?” she asked slowly.

“Yeah, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks going red, “I couldn’t get mine back from Ventus and I had time on my hands . . . so I tried.”

She looked at him, seeing not the boy who had kidnapped her, not the boy who was trying to kill her friends, but just a boy. Just an ordinary child.

She put her hand on his knee. “It’s wonderful.”

He gave her a brilliant smile that tore her heart in two.

Then it was gone, and in its place was a frown. “Ventus,” he muttered. The Wayfinder didn’t so much as disappear as it was absorbed into his body, and turning away from her, Vanitas made to stand.

She grabbed his arm.

“Stay. Please.”

He looked at her, eyes glazing over. He dropped to his hands and knees, crawled into her lap, his eyes making it clear what he wanted. She hesitated, still repulsed by the idea of playing along, but then reminded herself that this was _nothing_ compared to what she had just done. So, she stroked his hair, cradled him in her arms, like he was Ven.

He dozed off a little while later, perhaps exhausted from all the excitement.  He looked so innocent when he was asleep, so harmless. Who would guess, upon seeing him cuddling against her like a kitten, that a psychopath lurked behind that guise? Though that was a harsh term. Vanitas wasn’t a psychopath, just misunderstood . . .

Her eyes widened. What the _hell_ was she doing? This was the person who had kidnapped her; who had made it his personal goal to murder one of her best friends and at the very best, enslave the other; this was the person who ran a town dedicated to torture! Just a few minutes ago, she had been so afraid for Ven’s life that she’d taken him in her mouth, and now she was _excusing_ his actions.

What was wrong with her?

 _It’s Ven,_ she told herself, groping for a way to excuse her behaviour. _I’m confusing him with Ven_. _When he’s asleep like this, he –_

She cut that thought off with a curse. She had done this to weaken his guard so she could escape, but instead of that, she was coddling him like a baby.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, both from embarrassment and from rage. He probably had known exactly what turmoil her mind had been going through. All of these things that he had showed her had been to capitalize on that. She’d thought she was playing him when in reality, he had come precariously close to playing her.

 But no more. She had to get out of here before her sympathetic nature took over again.

She laid him on the glass, gently as not to wake him, then tiptoed over to the staircase that would lead up into the church. Once there, she _ran_. She bounded up the steps two at a time, heart pounding erratically until she finally tore open the trapdoor.

Like a drowning man who had just breached the water’s surface, she gasped for air. It was no different than the air below, but to her, it smelt fresher, tasted crisper. She spent a few seconds on her knees, simply relishing her first taste of freedom before taking off.

Music seemed to be playing as she ran towards the church’s exit. It was a celebratory tune, angelic, cresting as she passed through one of the rare beams of light that entered through the church’s stained glass windows. Time slowed, although the _thump, thump_ of her heart did not.

The doors opened before her, allowing a gust of cold air to enter. She basked in it, closing her eyes as it whipped her hair back. She hardly even felt the cold.

She took her first step outside as sparkling snowflakes fell around her.                        The heavy door automatically closed, as if sealing Vanitas within. Steeling herself, she summoned Rainfell, turning her eyes to the sky. Thick fog lingered there, ready to trap the unwary, but she had one advantage. She had light to ward it away, and if Vanitas was correct, she had some of _Ven’s_ light inside her as well.

She pointed her glider upwards, stepped onto it –

Something hot cut into her back, earning a sharp scream. Blood welled at the sight, making the air thick with the scent of copper. She turned, coming face to face with a hooded figure. In one hand, the figure held a dark keyblade, while the other hand, coated in darkness, was flying towards her face –

\- her head exploded in pain. A shrill ring echoed in her ears as she fell backwards. With the agony already bounding inside her skull, she barely felt the new pain as she smashed into the ground. She stirred feebly, moaning.

“You idiot!” Riku hissed. “Did you really believe that it would be that easy?”

He reached down and grabbed her arm, undoubtedly intending to drag her back to his master. But she would not have it, and fuelled by animalistic instinct, she twisted around and slammed her keyblade into his shin. Alone, it would have done little, but she had covered her keyblade in flames. It tore through the thick fabric, setting it aflame, and when Riku slapped them out, she swung upwards.

Rainfell’s shaft crushed the cartilage of his nose. He howled, his gloved hand failing to stop the blood dripping between his fingers. The force had been enough to knock his hood back, and now Aqua could see how red-eyed and dishevelled he was. Still, that did not stop her from dropping into a fighting stance.

“Get out of my way,” she demanded.

Dark green light flickered as Riku healed his nose. Rubbing it, he said, “I already told you, I can’t help you until Kairi’s safe!”

“I’m not asking you to help me,” she said, “I’m just telling you to stay out of my way.”

“So, you can escape!” His arm swiped through the air. “And once you do that, who do you think he’s going to take his anger out on?”

“Riku, I can’t stay here,” she said. “Don’t you get it? If he keeps me, he _wins_.”

It didn’t look like Riku had been listening to her. His face was scrunched up, clenched fists shaking at his side. His eyes were focused on a point on the ground, and Aqua almost thought she could see it steaming.

“Riku . . .” She stepped towards him, extending a hand.

Riku reached into his pocket then, hand remerging with a Thalassa shell. He stared, and the entire space surrounding him seemed to grow cold. When he looked at her next, there was no empathy there.

“You’re not leaving,” he said. And in one smooth move, he drew his keyblade up and over his head, holding it just like Vanitas did.

The suddenness of the attack caught her off-guard and it was all she could do to dodge. He shot past her, leaving a dark afterimage, ending in a crouch of sorts with his keyblade extended behind him. He did not turn to see her, but seemed to know by instant, whipping around with a dark Firaga. It broke against her Reflect spell, dissipating just as he sprung again. This, she blocked with Rainfell, stumbling back, unable to muster up anything other than weak surprise.

“Riku, stop!” Their weapons clanged. “You don’t need to do this.”

He swung again, keyblade meeting hers. His face was twisted with a cousin of a snarl, deepening as sweat gathered on his brow.

“I do!” he shouted, battering her with an overhead blow. “You don’t,” another strike, “understand! I have to protect them!”

That last phrase gave him some invisible strength, and he moved so quickly he was a blur. His thin keyblade passed right under hers, tearing through her abdomen, scattering droplets of blood in its wake.

She did not scream, but couldn’t stop herself from keeling over. Curaga right on her lips, she fell to her knees in front of him. Riku took a step back, nearly hyperventilating.

“You can’t leave,” he repeated hoarsely. “I won’t let you.”

Under her fingers, her wound healed. But she didn’t stand, nor did she stop grimacing. She continued to act as though she was injured, bowing her head so Riku couldn’t see the apathy spreading across her face. It was either that, or rage. Riku’s betrayal burned in her core, an ember fanned by his presence.

“Please,” he said, “stop resisting. It’s no use.”

She gave no visible sign of hearing him, baiting him closer. And closer he came. Keyblade held tensely, taking slow, creeping steps, he approached her the way one would a sleeping bear. Cautiously, he hovered above her, and reached out for her shoulder . . .

She whipped her keyblade up, screaming, “ _Light!_ ”

That worked. The power escaped from her, making her entire body tingle. Riku screamed, covering his face, spasms wracking his body as he fell. What guilt she felt she stomped into dust, reminding herself that he had been trying to prevent her escape. With that thought came anger and with a cry, she slammed her keyblade into his head, leaving a ruby trail across his forehead.

She stepped back, breathing heavily, and that’s when the state of the world around her finally sunk it.

The wind was howling, bending trees with its might. Above her, fog swirled, its form lit up with violent forms of purple lightning. It was like the very world was protesting her use of that light spell, was furious at her corruption of its darkness. The snow around her became a white sheet, making her utterly blind.

And nearby, she heard the church doors slam shut.

“No!” she screeched. “Stopaga!”

She aimed her spell blindly at the site where she had heard the noise, firing it off again and again. At last, a shudder ran up her keyblade, signalling that it had hit a target. Where that target was, she still had no idea, but she could picture clearly who it was.

She fled backwards into the blizzard, which only roared as it batted her face with ice. It was like she was trying to force her way through a wall. But though the storm might have been brutal to her, she would bet that Vanitas hadn’t had a stray flake land on him.

The spell must have been over by now. Panicking, her stomach twisting and leaping in her throat, she called her armour. It slid over her skin, cool and sleek, a shield separating from the outside, as if she were watching events through a window. She held Rainfell, charging it with a shotlock as she continued to stumble backwards.

Motes of light, every colour of the rainbow, sprang from the end of her blade, forming a large circle before heading off in search of its target. Prism Rain had always been a homing spell, so she didn’t stay to direct it. In this storm, she had to trust that her magic was true.

She took off into the sky, driving back the blizzard with her light. It worked, but not nearly as well as she would have liked. The storm beat against the edges of her homemade bubble. It must have been her imagination playing tricks on her, but she swore the air _cracked_.

But it wasn’t only the air. There was another crack, behind her, and then a beam of dark energy tore through the fog, burning her leg. She yelped, cradling it, crouched low to her keyblade as she peeked behind her. Through the swirling fog and the barrage of snow, she couldn’t see her pursuer. But she had no doubts that _he_ could see _her_.

There was another beam of energy, much, much too close. She cringed, squeezing her eyes shut as the futility of her flight dawned on her. She had no idea where she was going. For all she knew, she could be on a collision course straight into the ground.

“Terra . . . Ven. . .” She gripped her Wayfinder, praying. Their bond had saved them so many times in the past. Maybe, now, it would give her power to –

A shrieking _thing_ dove out of the fog, colliding into her face. She screamed, clawing at it, trying to get it _off_. The creature hung on, clawing at her back, leathery wings slapping her face, until she tore it off and threw it. Her skin prickled as if bugs were crawling all over it, still freaking out from the unnaturalness of the dark creature that had touched her. It was gone though; she’d gotten it off.

But not before it had completed its job.

As she struggled to regain her lost speed, a high-pitched whine reached her. She only had time to blink before Vanitas tore through the veil of snow, masked, headed straight towards her.

The sharp edge of his glider ripped her upper arm open, the pain so bad that she thought he had actually sliced it off. She screamed again, legs buckling, her glider nearly falling out of the sky right there. Shakily, she touched her arm, eyes widening when her hand came back soaked. She glanced at the wounded site and . . . Kingdom Hearts . . . was that _bone_ she saw?

Her courage, her will to escape deserted her when she realized just how serious he was.

But it wasn’t enough. Vanitas came at her again, this time from above. He slammed his glider into hers, locking them together, his momentum changing the angle of hers until it, too, aimed down. She kicked at his glider, trying to dislodge it, but Vanitas leapt onto her back, arm wrapping around her neck as he groped for a chokehold.

They continued to spiral downwards. Air rushed past them, drowning out Aqua’s desperate gasps and cries as she wrestled with him. Vanitas continued his attempt to strangle her, body flush against hers.

Then, just as she was forcing his arm away from her throat, he zapped her. The dark energy coursed through her like a twister, tearing up her insides and tossing them asunder. She went momentarily limp, and that was enough. He forced his weight on top of her, overpowering her legs, bringing her to her knees. Still, that wasn’t enough for him. He pressed his weight even further into her, forcing her to lie on her stomach. He sprawled on top of her, lips dangerously close to her ear as she squirmed and tried to –

\- black coated her vision as he slammed her head against the glider. For a long moment, it felt like she was going to faint; her mind was groggy, unfocused, drifting into the void of sleep. But then consciousness trickled back to her, and with it, the _fear_.

_He’s going to kill me; oh Light, I crossed the line. He wants to kill me . . ._

As if hearing her thoughts, the fog opened up, revealing their plummet towards the earth. It was not water or dirt they headed towards, but hard, thick asphalt. And her head would be the collision site.

“No, no!” She tried to squeeze out from underneath him, but the glider she lay on was so small that even if she did, she would have just fallen off.  Though still would have been better than this: hurtling mindlessly towards her death. Vanitas didn’t even seem to care that he would be collateral damage.

“Vanitas, please! I’m sorry!” She tried to turn away, but Vanitas grabbed her chin and twisted it, forcing her to keep looking.

The ground rushed towards them –

 - her head slammed against the glider.

Everything went black.


	30. Chapter 30

He was being rocked gently back and forth, swaying in the arms of someone as they moved. That he was aware of, but not much else, caught as he was in the state between dreams and consciousness. The sounds of the world rushed past him; he was more aware of sensations than anything else. Hard planes cradled each side of his body, save for one arm which limply dangled in the air.

Ven moaned. The person carrying him did not react. Still, he felt safe in this stranger’s grasp; he was certain that it wasn’t the Bogeyman. So, he was content to lay there and let comprehension dawn on him slowly. It was when he remembered what his mission was that he finally bolted awake, head pounding in protest at the hasty action.

He was being carried. He turned his head, getting a direct view of the person’s chest. Or he would have, if there wasn’t metal blocking his way. He blinked, looking the person over from top to bottom. Whoever it was, they were suited in armour – keyblade armour – which was slick with the black blood of the Bogeymen. The gold armour covered every inch of the figure, leaving no clue as to who lay beneath.

At least it wouldn’t have if Ven didn’t recognize it.

He squirmed out of the person’s grasp. “Terra, you woke up!”

Terra said nothing, looking down at him.

With a childish grin, Ven tackled him, wrapping his arms tight around Terra’s midsection until he thought he was going to cut himself. Still, Terra did nothing, and that finally got him concerned. He backed up, speaking his friend’s name, knocking on his chest when nothing happened.

The sound echoed.

Ven gasped. Knocked again. Put his ear to the armour so that he could hear. And when he did, it became undeniable: the armour was hollow.

It was like he had been a candle, and a gust had just blown out his flame. His legs felt stiff, lifeless, more like stone than flesh. He pushed on the armour’s arm, trying to shake it, as if that would magically teleport Terra back into his armour. However, Terra’s armour only continued to stand there, emotionless.

“I’m still on my own,” he muttered.

His hand still on the armour’s chest, he rested his forehead against it, tears biting at his eyes. He could sense the light infused within the metal, soothing like a mother’s touch. It murmured quietly, as if trying to comfort him. Slowly, the armour raised its arms, wrapping them around Ven. It reeked of light, a subtle, sweet scent, the complete opposite to the bitter aroma of darkness. Though where . . .?

Hit by a sudden thought, he took out Terra’s Wayfinder and held it by the chain. The trinket rotated slowly, dull to his eyes. Terra’s light was no longer inside it.

But that didn’t mean it was _gone_.

He looked back at Terra’s armour, glowing faintly amidst the background of fog. Just as he had to the hag’s light in the Dwarf Woodlands, he whispered, “Go back.”

The armour bowed its head and held up its arms, as if flying. Gold flakes detached themselves from its form, starting at the shoulders and moving inwards to the head. The flakes disintegrated in midair, curling like slips of paper that had been set alight. As the upper half of the armour was eaten away, light began to spill, swooping to the ground in wispy coils, only to spring upwards back into the orange Wayfinder. It grew warm, trembled, only to lay still once the last of the light had been swallowed.

He held the Wayfinder up, amazed. He must have done that, and it hadn’t been like that time with the hag. It wasn’t like Terra had been sitting in front of him asking for Ven to tear his light out. He’d simply called for light, and Terra’s had answered and made this.

He nearly felt drunk with giddiness. What else could he make? Was the light in Terra’s Wayfinder restricted to this one form, or could it take on others? Could he make it into a bird that would sit on his shoulders, or a puppy, or . . .?

The delight went away quickly, to be replaced by a bitter shame. What was he doing? This wasn’t any time to be experimenting! That could come later, once Aqua and Sora were safe and he had woken Terra.

He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, tried to wipe out the memory of what happened and return to the present. He turned his attention to his surroundings, studying them closely, blinking at the red tarnish on the white snow.

Blood.

He crouched, fighting an urge to stick a finger into the coagulating puddle. It was in the form of a hand, not much larger than his own. The snow around it was disturbed, as if swept aside in a hurry.

“Sora,” he whispered.

Where did the trail go? He was hesitant to go charging into the fog, especially now that he knew the Bogeymen were about. Perhaps they had been originally after Sora, but there was no telling if they would turn on him.

Lost Memories came to him. To it, Ven said, “Guide me.”

The keyblade hummed, but it did not direct him.

“Come on . . .” Ven shook his keyblade. “Work!”

The keyblade merely continued humming.

He grumbled under his breath, finding a childish urge to toss the keyblade aside like a toy train that had stopped running. Though he may be master of this town, he clearly had a long way to go.

He swept his keyblade from side to side, the same way he would a torch to illuminate the darkness. Fog scattered in its wake, and the keyblade continued to hum. With a frown, he shook the keyblade again, having no effect on the vibrations.

“What’s with you?” he muttered.

He waved the keyblade again, gradually rooting out the spot where the vibrations were strongest. Curiously, he stepped in that direction, rewarded by warmth that flooded through the keyblade’s shaft into him. Such a pleasant sensation it was compared to the bitter chill of Silent Hill that it only spurred him onwards, and the keyblade vibrated even faster.

Then, more blood. Lost Memories shook violently, nearly tearing itself out of his hands as he held it above the puddle. Now, he understood what the keyblade was trying to tell him.

But this wasn’t just it. He glanced from side to side, making sure no one was watching, feeling a little ashamed about what he was going to do.

Then, he dipped the keyblade in the blood.

The vibrating stopped. There, off in the distance, shone a red light. He knew automatically that more blood, from the same source, laid there.

So he walked into the fog, following the lonely trail.

The monsters did not harass him, nor did Vanitas. Apparently, his other half was still busy, and that terrified him because whatever he was busy with, it probably involved Aqua. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. Thus, he walked briskly, on the verge of jogging, alert and bright-eyed.

And arrived on the steps of Brookhaven Hospital.

For a minute, he just stood there, silently reliving his last time here. Brookhaven, Naminé’s home, a haven of light; it was the one place in Silent Hill out of Vanitas’s reach. As if declaring that, the walls were dull white, blending in with the fog. The windows were boarded, the lawn scruffy; the whole place was in a state of clear neglect.

 _Is it because I wasn’t there?_ he wondered. Because if Brookhaven contained light and that was his responsibility . . .

He pushed the doors open.

He didn’t even need to look inside to know that something was wrong, not when the door twisted unnaturally at his touch, hanging by a sole hinge. The walls of Brookhaven, in his memory, had always been pure white, but these walls were smeared with dirt, scorched. The entire entrance hall seemed to be the victim of some great explosion, with blast marks surrounding an epicenter located at the doors.

“Naminé, you here?” His voice echoed through the halls.

Something was wrong.

Down one of the halls was a trail of blood. Not a huge one, thankfully, more like a line of drops. He tracked it, Lost Memories in hand, going slowly when he approached the corner. He peeked around it first, only for a second before pulling back. When nothing cried out, he felt safe enough to fully step around.

The hospital seemed devoid of life, including the one that was supposed to be here. It was possible that Naminé was busy sketching or something, but Ven wasn’t getting that vibe. It was more like walking through a catacomb.

He mindlessly walked through the halls, mind buzzing with distant, low voices. For the most part, he ignored them, tuning them out. Occasionally though, one would cut through the blare of static, making him wince from the sudden loudness.

And they were always the same:

 _“Where am I?” “Why am I here?” “What’s happen– Oh god, what is that thing?” “Someone help me!_ Hel- _!”_

“Shut up,” he hissed, beating at his temples.

But the further he walked into Brookhaven, the worse they got.

_“Please god, oh god, please . . .” “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do it!” “What do you want from me? I don’t have anything left!”_

_“_                        

_As if anyone out there gives a damn. . . I can’t . ..”_

His heart jerked violently, burned, as if a piece of it had been torn out. Gasping, he rubbed his chest, eyes fogging over. What . . . what had just happened?

Just as one sensed a change in the atmosphere in the room, so did he feel it: light in a wispy form. It was indistinct, slipping through the fingers of his focus like a curl of smoke, yet undeniably present. He called that loose shred of light to him, luring it. Without his conscious decision, his hand rose, palm-up as if to take hold of something.

And in front of his eyes, something appeared.

It was light, but not only that; he could see darkness mixed in as well. It wasn’t just an orb either like he was used to, but a . . . a person?

It was a spectre, features blurred and indistinguishable, but with a clear body, head and limbs. Its form shimmered as it waited, out of phase with the light breeze that manoeuvred past them. It seemed to look back and forth aimlessly, as if lost.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, and the spectre’s chin whipped around to face him. It cocked its head to one side. And Ven held out his hand, walked towards it . . .

Grasped nothing. But when his hand had made contact with that light, a numb, tingling sensation overtook him –

 - The smell of alcohol in the air as a man stood at the controls. He was swaying slightly on his feet, clearly drunk, humming a merry tune. They were in a train of some sorts, not a big one, just a small one, the same sort of train found on a monorail. They were not alone either; accompanying them were other people, including children.

Through the train’s window, a flashing red light whipped by. If it meant anything, the man did not show it, continuing his drunken pirate’s song.

The train shuddered. Then jolted. Violently. The entire car shook and trembled, lights flickering, until it keeled over and crashed onto its side. From behind, people screamed. The scent of blood poured into the air, as the light blinked once more before plunging the place into total darkness.

Yet Ven could still see. Not only that, but while everyone else had been battered by the train’s crash, he hadn’t so much as stumbled. He felt no pain, no fear, and his concern for the wailing children behind him was . . . disturbingly little. He couldn’t help them. He simply _knew_ that –

\- He was on a deck now, overlooking a giant, fog-filled chasm. A man, the same man who had been drunk at the controls, stared over the edge. On the railing next to him was a newspaper, titled ‘ _Train Accident at Devil’s Pit Causes Death of 8 Children’_. The man did not look at the paper - in fact, Ven felt that he was deliberately ignoring it - and instead tossed coins into the chasm –

\- He was still on the deck, but it was colder now, closer to night. And the man had heaved himself over the railing, standing on that small little space between railing and the drop.

“I didn’t mean to hurt nobody,” he mumbled. He snorted suddenly, adding, “As if anyone gives a damn.”

Staring into the gorge, the man spoke one last time, “I can’t . . .”

And suddenly he was falling, disappearing into the void below –

\- Ven blinked, and he was back in Brookhaven. The spectre hovered before him, and now he could make out features: a nose, the slope of a chin. Enough to know that it was truly human.

 _What now_? a voice asked.

“Huh?” Ven looked from side to side, but didn’t see anyone.

_What will we do with him?_

“We?” Ven glanced down at his keyblade. Was it talking to him?

The voice did not answer that thought. _Murderer_ , it hissed, _he is a murderer. How shall he be punished?_

“No, wait!” he cried, backing up. His head swung from side to side in an attempt to locate this voice. “Don’t!”

He could hear the pause. _Don’t?_

“He didn’t mean to do it,” Ven said. “He didn’t want to kill anyone, and . . . and he’s dead! What kind of punishment can you give him?”

The response was immediate. _Whatever is needed._

“No, no more punishment,” Ven said. “It’s done. Just leave him alone.”

_. . . As you wish._

The form broke apart. It split down the middle, shreds drifting away on the wind where they quickly dissipated into nothing. In his mind, he had the sense of the light flying just out of reach.

A sense of pleasure overtook him, the same kind that affected a person after a hard day’s work. Ah, yes, another soul judged, another decree executed, all under his watchful eye. Pride began to flood into him, filling him from the bottom-up. He’d done well.

He blinked. What was he thinking? He wasn’t supposed to be thinking this!

The pride didn’t go away, but remained, thick and pungent. Ven had the feeling that it wasn’t his to begin with. More like . . . _him_.

“No, no, stop! Please!”

His eyes widened at that, the sound of someone _real_. The scream had been filled with desperation and terror, the cry of a man watching his doom approach.

“Hey!” Ven traced the scream to a barred door, behind which sobs floated through the air. “Hey, what’s going on in there?”

He slammed his fists on the door, which remained strong and solid. The voice cried out again, and this time, he recognizedit.

“Sora,” he breathed.

There was an undeniable note of pain in Sora’s shriek now, and red blotted the edges of Ven’s vision. No, they wouldn’t – he’d _sworn_ to get Sora out of here alive. He didn’t care what the town wanted; Sora wasn’t going to die!

Heat laced his cheeks, and the temperature combined with the hatred to make him nauseous. Baring his teeth, he swung Lost Memories in an overhead swing. The teeth of the blade sunk into the wood, but it wasn’t enough. The door remained standing; Sora’s shrieks did not stop.

And this time, Ven’s shout joined them. “No!” he bellowed. “Stay away from him!”

The keyblade flared; Ven yanked it out, aimed, and let the shotlock tear the door from its hinges. It flung across the room, breaking across the back of a hunched figured, which hissed and looked up from its prey. In the flickering light of Ven’s attack, its skin lit up with an inhuman brilliance. From the shadow of its hood protruded a wolf-like muzzle, with two canines sticking out near the middle of its length.

The shotlock ended and the room was plunged back into darkness. The only light was from the hall that Ven stood in, and the glowing red eyes of the monster. Still, there was enough to make out – just barely – the table that the monster crouched over, and the writhing figure on its surface.

“Sora!” Ven sprung forwards, charging his keyblade with light. He swung right at the monster’s waist, carving a red line across its furred belly. Slavering jaws parted in what were simultaneously a tiger’s roar, a snake’s hiss, and a crocodile’s rumble.

The monster stumbled away, ripping its thick claws out of Sora’s chest. Though it was too dark to see the wounds, Ven could see the dancing specks of light as they reflected off Sora’s blood. The monster backed further away, into the shadows, and the darkness seemed to take on a new intensity.

“Ven?” Sora moaned.

Ven moved towards him, keeping an eye on the spot where the monster had just disappeared. “You, stay back,” he warned it. He stopped at Sora’s side, dragging his fingers along the other boy’s armoured arm as he tried to locate the restraints.

Suddenly, there was heavy breathing at his ear.

A flash of teeth. The smell of decay blasted him straight-on as the monster’s head twisted, maw wide. But it was not his flesh that the monster chose to feed on; it went past him, shoving him aside, growling in cruel delight as it went after Sora.

Just like the Bogeyman, this monster didn’t care about him. This was solely Sora’s nightmare.

From the ground, Ven struck, right at the knee. He felt it bend backwards, and the monster crumbled, just short of taking a chuck out of Sora’s thigh. And Ven rolled up to it, blasting it with light at point-blank range.

It did not have the effect he intended. The room lit up, but the monster did not seem to take damage. Now, Ven could see just how warped it was. Its limbs were covered in soft-looking scales, though its body possessed a scruffy grey coat of fur. It wore a black hood and cape, thin-looking, like a bandit. It had a tail too, a thick, powerful one that dragged along the ground.

At the sight of it, Ven felt something stirring in his being: fear.  The same suffocating one that gripped him w hen the town had first changed. It felt natural, simple.

The monster hissed, flexing its claws, turning its head slightly as to look up at Sora –

That was all the encouragement he needed. He stabbed forwards; the keyblade disappeared into the shadow created by the monster’s cloak, but he felt it stop short as it hit something precious. The rattling hiss fell silent.

Ven tore his keyblade out, splattering black blood on the floor between him and the monster. The monster stared at him, as if puzzled, before slumping over, once and for all.

On the table, Sora whimpered.


	31. Chapter 31

With the death of the creature, light again filled the room. The bulb above them crackled and popped before fizzing to life, casting dim rays on the miserable scene below. Sora was still on the table, strapped down by his ankles and wrists. His armour- Ven’s armour, that is to say – was pried apart at the chest, sticking outwards. The flesh beneath bore several claw marks that all blended together to form one gory wound. There was also some metal missing on the leg furthest from Ven, but he couldn’t tell the state of the site from his angle.

Ven kicked the fallen monster, making sure it was dead. The impact caused a fresh swell of black blood to erupt from its body, mixing with the red blood already covering its claws. With a grimace, Ven turned away from the monster, focusing instead on the boy on the table.

One by one, he undid the straps holding Sora down. Once free, Sora curled into a little ball, body shaking with sobs. Ven bit his lip, feeling sorry for him . . . but they had to keep moving. It wasn’t wise to dwell in this place.

“Come on, get up,” he said. He grabbed Sora underneath the arm and pulled. “We got to go.”

Sora winced as his chest came into contact with Ven’s clothes.

“Here.” He put his hand on Sora’s chest, murmuring a healing spell. It looked like the wounds closed up, but it was hard to tell since blood soaked the sight. He could, however, feel the raised lines of scars underneath his fingers. Looked like Sora wasn’t going to escape this intact.

Sora rubbed the spot. Then he sagged sideways, nearly falling off the table’s edge before Ven caught him. Sora was limp in his arms, like a corpse.  He couldn’t have lost that much blood, right?

Ven studied the jagged edges of the tear in the armour’s chest. They bore clear claw marks, the same ones that had been on Sora, reminding him of a piñata that had been torn open to get at the goodies inside.

“He said I didn’t have one,” Sora suddenly said. “Not after what I did to Kairi and Riku.”

Ven assumed he was talking about the monster. “Have what?”

“A heart.” His head rotated slowly to face Ven dead-on. “He said I didn’t deserve one. That most of it wasn’t even mine to begin with.”

“That’s not true,” Ven said firmly, putting his hands on Sora’s shoulder. “Sora, listen to me. None of this is your fault. What happened to your friends is not your fault. This is all Vanitas’s doing. It’s _not_ your fault.”

Sora shrugged. It was frightening how listless he was.

“I’m going to check on your leg,” Ven said, “just give me a second.”

With the small amount of flesh that was offered to him, Ven could see that instead of the healthy tan that Sora should have, his skin was ghastly white. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. Apart from the chest wound, there was another. Sora’s right thigh and the outer side of the corresponding leg had, for lack of a better word, been mutilated. Shaved maybe, with a chuck of flesh sliced straight off. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be much bone in the wreckage. Ven immediately shot off a bunch of Curagas, muscles jumping as weariness started to overtake them.

It was slow, very slow to heal, as to be expected. A massive wound like this? Aqua probably would have been able to handle it, but it was beyond his ability to heal. He did the best he could though, and raw, red skin stretched over the holes. It was far from done though; instead of one smooth slate of new skin, it was a patchwork of scarred skin and open wounds. If Sora took one good hit to that area, the entire thing would come apart.

“How did you get that?” Ven asked.

Breathing heavily, Sora took a few moments to answer. “That monster. The one that chased us.”

The Bogeyman. Ven turned his face away as to hide his worry. Sora’s injury must have been from the Great Knife then, and Ven was well aware that it wasn’t exactly sanitary.

“Ok, let me fix your armour.”

He slapped the shoulder piece, then slapped it again. It was in the nature of magical clothes to heal themselves when dismissed, so that they would be ready for the next time they were needed. Thus, when the metal reappeared again, it was intact.

“Come on,” Ven said. “Let’s get out of here.”

Sora didn’t seem capable of walking by himself. So Ven put his shoulder under his armpit and lifted the lifeless boy. It took a bit of prompting to get Sora to move, but then he did, and the two made their way back into the hallway.

“I don’t . . .” Sora started. “I . . .”

“Yes?” Ven said patently.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Ven knew he should have said something. He knew he should have sat Sora down and do something to make him smile again, to give him hope.

But he didn’t.

As they passed through the empty halls of Brookhaven, Ven found his spirits plummeting. Naminé should have come out by now. It wasn’t like her to stay hidden.

“Just hang tight,” he said to Sora. “I’ll get you out of here.”

Sora didn’t make a sound.

Suddenly, they found themselves in a hallway different than the rest. The entirety of Brookhaven had been battered, but this place? It was clear a war had happened here. The stench of smoke still crept along the ground, reminiscent of the old explosions that had dyed the walls black. In them pooled pebbles of rubble, gathering in the furrows created by some unknown monster’s claws. There was only one place untouched: a door, still white, still pure.

Though Sora clearly had reservations about entering here, Ven pulled him forwards as he headed towards the door. He knocked once, twice, shyly saying, “Naminé?”

He waited maybe half a minute before there was finally a sound from the other side. The wood creaked as someone leaned against it, and with his ear pressed up against the door, Ven could hear faint breathing.

“Naminé?” he repeated, scratching at the door like a dog. “Are you okay?”

“Ven?” Her voice was weak, but steady. More like exhausted than anything else.

“Hey, are you okay?’ he demanded. “This place looks like it’s been torn apart.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

Ven looked up and down the halls, swallowing before saying, “Hey, Naminé? One of my friends is really hurt; is it okay if he rests here –?”

“No!” There was the sound of scuffling. “No, you can’t . . . I’m sorry, Ven. But if I open the door, then the darkness will get in.”

So, Brookhaven was no longer safe. “How did it get in here?” Ven asked. “I thought the light would keep it out.”

In a hushed voice, Naminé said, “I don’t know. Vanitas . . . he walked in one day and destroyed everything. I don’t know how he resisted the light.”

He nodded though she couldn’t see him. “You sure you’re okay? You can try coming with me, if you’d like.”

“No,” she whispered. “If I leave this place, it’ll be destroyed. You and your friends, you need to get out of here. You shouldn’t have come back!”

“I had to!” Ven cried. “He has Aqua. Naminé, do you know where he’s keeping her?”

“No,” she said. “I can’t see anything anymore. Whenever I draw, all I can see is black.”

Ven closed his eyes. Naminé had been muzzled. Whatever had happened in that time between now and their first escape from Silent Hill, it had been very, very bad. Vanitas hadn’t just returned; he’d come back stronger.

“Ven,” Sora tugged on his sleeve. “What’s going on?”

Ven managed a wobbly smile. “Just checking up on a friend.”

Speaking of which, there was one other he needed to check up on. “Naminé, is Xion . . .?”

There was a long minute of silence.

“I’m sorry, Ven.”

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Then, his forehead fell against the door and he wept. For a while, Sora – probably confused and still traumatized from earlier – left him to it. But then a weight fell on Ven’s shoulder. Sora’s hand gently squeezed as if Ven, not him, had been strapped to that table.

“I’m sorry,” Sora whispered. There was no way the boy knew what Ven was crying over, but it didn’t dampened the sentiment any.

Ven wiped his eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

They had to keep moving.

Without any other options open to him, they left Naminé to her isolation. He and Sora continued to navigate the worn-down halls, passing through beams of light as they walked by windows. Dust stirred under their feet, splashing upwards in a spout that made his nose tickle. It coated the inside of his throat too, along with the bits of ash still floating around, turning it dry and scratchy. Sora wasn’t faring any better; the harsh coughs made it sound like he was spitting up his lungs.

In the middle of one hall, his senses went on high alert for a reason that even he wasn’t entirely sure of. He yanked Sora into a room, placing a hand on his chest to hold him back as he peeked out. A few seconds passed and then there, at the end of the corridor, grew a shadow. The bloated upper body informed him of what it was: a lying figure.

He ducked back into the room a mere moment before the monster lurched into sight. Could he order it to leave them alone . . . ? Possibly, but after that fiasco with the Bogeyman he didn’t want to take a chance. So, he waited, Lost Memories drawn. Faintly, he thought he could hear hissing as acid dripped from the monster.

He waited about two minutes, wanting to be extra sure that it had passed. After that, he turned to grab Sora, who was staring at an opposing wall. Ven followed his line of sight, saw the chalk drawing of Sora and his friends. . .

And flinched.

He forced Sora out of the room. It wasn’t hard, considering Sora seemed to have relapsed into a nearly catatonic state. He really seemed like an inanimate suit of armour. He said nothing more for the rest of their journey out of Brookhaven, not even when they emerged into the outside world.

“Come on . . .” Ven shook Terra’s Wayfinder. “Give me a clue!”

The Wayfinder seemed to pulse, as if irritated. But the magic went to work anyways and soon enough, Ven felt that tugging at his core. He draped Sora’s arm over his shoulders again, and then the two advanced towards the place Aqua was being held.

The town was almost peaceful today. Although they heard monsters in the fog, none came to greet them. Snow sprinkled the ground around them, crunching under their weight. The air was brisk, carrying that sharp edge that froze the hairs in one’s nostrils.

Ven frowned. Seriously, where was Vanitas? Here he was, travelling openly with a severely wounded boy, and his other half was nowhere to be seen. It only made him even more frightened for Aqua; no doubt, that if Vanitas wasn’t hounding him, he was with her.

He sighed. He had no idea where he and Sora were going, only that it was somewhere. He trusted the Wayfinder to guide him. And though he knew the town was targeting Sora, it still came as a shock when the other boy mentioned sirens.

“Stay close,” he said, “don’t let me out of your sight.”

As if Sora was capable of running off. He was walking with a strong limp, hobbling almost, like one of the town’s deformed monsters.

They trudged onwards, crunching snow marking their every move. With Lost Memories, he kept the path ahead clear, occasionally tossing a flare at a drift that would otherwise prove irritating to navigate. The Wayfinder led him into an alleyway, with rubbish piled up on one side.

He kicked aside an empty can, eyes darkening as he scanned the place. It reminded him of the time where he and Aqua had been ambushed by the Bogeyman. This alley, at least, was not a dead end. There was a chain-link fence across the middle, but it had a gaping hole in its span.

After pushing aside a couple of garbage cans, he helped Sora through first. The sharp edges of the severed links scraped against the armour, carving thin white lines. Ven himself didn’t get any of those on his skin; unlike Sora, he had enough energy to make himself even a little flexible and fit through the hole.

They made it to the end of the alleyway, and then Ven just had to look back. Where once there had been a broken fence, now it was whole. There was no trace that it had ever been damaged in any way.

It made him wonder: had a hole appeared because the town sensed its master wanted through, or had a hole _disappeared_ to stop him from turning back?

He swallowed. It was already done. He had to keep moving forwards.

By this time, Sora had regained enough will to walk on his own. Ven kept an impatient, uneven pace, trying both to accommodate Sora’s injury and not feel like he was letting Aqua down. Still, they were wasting a lot more time than he was pleased with. Vanitas could have easily sawed off her arms by now – not that he was likely to.

They found themselves on what must have been the fringe of town. It was a long road, the backs of houses on one side, and woods on the other. The Wayfinder was leading him further down the road, so that’s where he went, trying to ignore the deepening shadows of the trees.

And suddenly, there was a gap. Strangely, the fog had lifted in this one area, exposing the lake beyond. Sun met the surface, turning it into diamonds. It was surreal compared to the subtleness of Silent Hill. The reflection was too bright; the waves too vigorous. It was like he was looking at a different world.

It was then he realized that Sora was walking straight towards it.

Sora ignored his shouts, tracing an erratic path towards the shore. He was still fairly slow, wobbly, but was moving faster than he had since Ven had rescued him.

“Sora, stop!”

He did. Right at the shoreline. Behind the helmet, Ven couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew Sora was staring into the water. Waves broke against his feet, sapping away the sand from around them.

“Sora.” He walked up behind the other boy.

“It’s here,” Sora said. “This is how we got here. It seems like such a long time ago. Look, there’s the raft.”

Ven looked in the direction of Sora’s finger, finding that there was a raft. It was half-beached, its sail tattered and flapping uselessly in the wind. Sora walked towards it, like he was in a trance. What a coincidence, that they would find Sora’s abandoned raft here, the innocent wish that began it all.

Ven’s eyes widened.

 _Nothing_ that happened in Silent Hill was a coincidence.

“Sora, wait!”

Sora reached out, touched the raft’s mast.

And the water exploded.

He couldn’t see anything through the spout of water that rose. Not at first. Then, four sickle-like claws sliced through, seizing Sora by the shoulders. A pale, eyeless face emerged, with a gaping hole filled with triangular teeth. The mouth seemed to take up the entirety of the monster’s face, folding outwards as it descended upon Sora’s head.

“No!” Ven tossed his keyblade, missing the monster, but distracting it enough to make it pause. Then, Sora snapped out of his daze, summoning his keyblade and trying to beat the monster over the head.

“Go away!” Ven screamed at it. “Leave him alone!”   

The monster froze. Sora twisted, finally bashing the monster in the face, knocking it to the ground. It landed in a heap, its tail – a pair of fused legs – thrashing violently. Sora stared down at it, backed away, then slammed his keyblade into the monster’s head, again and again.

He bashed the skull one last time, earning a loud crack, then stopped. His keyblade was still against the ground, hiding what lay beneath, but as the surf passed through the spot, it turned red. The head of the keyblade was red and littered with scraps of skull and grey matter when Sora lifted it. With a squeak, he dropped the keyblade, causing it to disappear.

Ven hardly glanced at the carnage. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before –”

There was a shriek. A splash.

And then claws sunk into his back.

He was brought to the ground. He cried out, kicking, claws digging into his back. Then, they were gone. For a second he laid still, confused. Next to him, the monster crawled away, back towards the lake. Why . . .?

Sora was gone.

He stabbed the monster in the back, killing it quickly, before diving into the water. There, he could see Sora, caught in the dangerous grip of one of the other monsters. It was behind him, one arm around the boy’s waist, the other strangling him, dragging him into the lake’s murky depths.

He swam down, weaving his way past Sora’s wildly flailing limbs. Lost Memories glowing, he swung the keyblade right at the monster.

But it wasn’t enough. The water slowed his swing; there wasn’t enough force to do any more damage than a punch. The monster screeched, blasting his face with a stream of bubbles.

He tried to tell it to release Sora, but his words couldn’t be understood by his audience. Grappling with it didn’t do much either.

No, it only made it angry.

A ripple of blood rose from him, owed to the newly-acquired claws marks across his chest. With a shriek, it made to grab him, claws gleaming odd silver in the deep. The claws missed, but where they failed, teeth did not. They locked into the spot right between his neck and shoulder, holding him fast.

His cells began to scream for air.

His struggles became less about saving Sora, and more about saving _himself_. His eyes rolled upwards, staring up at the sky which was drawing further away. He groped helplessly at the water, even as he found himself moving down inside of up.

_No . . . help. . ._

A shadow passed over his sight.

_No . . ._

The monster had released him, but it was too late. Water began to trickle in. He-

A hand snagged the back of his shirt.


	32. Chapter 32

She hurt everywhere. Moaning, Aqua stirred feebly, failing miserably when she tried to raise her chin off the ground. She was . . . she was alive? How? How could she still -?

Vanitas. She should have known he wouldn’t let her go that easy.

Her eyelids fluttered. They ached with the rest of her, adding to the throbbing pain that alternated with numbness. She was cold, weary, hopeless; her chance of outwitting Vanitas had been snatched away from her. She wouldn’t get another opportunity for a long time.

She was aware, suddenly, that he was right there. As in her head was in his lap. A couple of his fingers were lightly stroking her hair, but it felt distant, like a memory.

She stiffened. Though he may be acting kind now, it was because he thought her unconscious. There was no use at screaming at someone who couldn’t hear you, after all. Of course, she prayed that was all he would do. She had made him really, really angry. It was a wonder that he hadn’t cut her up already.

She tried to pretend she was still sleeping, but he had already seen her attempts to rise. He poked at her cheeks, like a bored child, pinching when she refused to respond. That got her to open her eyes, not because it was cute or anything, but she was terrified of how much more violent he could get.

He grinned. “You’re awake!”

Okay. That had not been the reaction she was expecting. Her skin crawled and she looked away, making a show out of scanning the place. She immediately recognized that she was in the castle’s infirmary, lying atop the covers of one of the beds. A small table had been pulled up to her bedside, and on it was some medical equipment. She glanced at her arm, noticing that the huge cut had been healed.

“You were unconscious for a couple of hours,” he remarked casually. “I healed you, but I might have missed a spot or two.”

If the aching was anything to go by, he had missed a bunch of them. At least she could say it didn’t feel like fresh pain, more like a headache that had grown past its boundaries.

“I . . . ugh. . .” She had tried to speak, but had also made the unwise decision to try and sit up. Nausea consumed her, nearly driving her to faint. Vanitas caught her limp head though, helping her to lie down again.

He stayed silent for a couple of seconds, fingers wringing together, before blurting, “I figured it out.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “You think I’m an ungrateful, selfish little jerk, don’t you? I can’t blame you . . . I mean, I fell asleep! You wanted me to stay with you, and I just fell asleep. No wonder you were mad enough to run off!”

She stared. What in Hades was he talking about?

And he suddenly jumped onto the bed, straddling her, one hand on the covers next to her chest and the other getting ready to join as he crawled further up her body. “All I did was take,” he muttered. “You offered, I took it, and I didn’t give anything back. You pleasured me, but when it became your turn, I ignored you and fell asleep. I get it.”

Her face went white. Frantically, she shook her head, insides icing over as she tried to pull away. “No, no . . .”

“Shh. I get it, now.”

“Vanitas, no!” She pushed at his chest as he became closer. “That’s not what I-”

His hand muffled the rest of her sentence. “I’ll make things right. Don’t worry.”

His words were so innocent, and ominous. 

His hand was replaced by his lips, giving her no time to scream. He fell into her, crushing her against the bed, almost like a python strangling its prey. She tried to shove him off, but he, in his zeal, accidentally smacked her head against the bed’s headboard. The resulting nausea disoriented her, leaving her defenseless as one of his hands dove underneath her shirt.

 _Stop spinning_ , her mind hissed at the world. Kingdom Hearts, of all times, why did she have to be sick _now_? Even then, why couldn’t it be the kind of sickness where she could puke in his mouth and drive him away? Fate must hate her; that was the only explanation she had for the way her life was going.

She turned her head to deny Vanitas access to her mouth. Though at first he tried to follow, he eventually turned his attention to her neck instead, kissing it tenderly. She opened her mouth to speak, only to gasp in shock as his teeth broke the skin. His tongue ran across the wound, lapping up blood, making her shiver in disgust and –

No. She refused to finish that thought.

“S-stop,” she said weakly, her twisting gut make it hard for her to speak. “Vanitas, please.”

“Aqua . . .”

“ _No_!” She finally found her strength and _threw_ him off the bed. Blood rushing through her veins, panting from the exertion, she gripped her head, groaning at the pain.

Meanwhile, Vanitas dusted himself off. “That was a bit rough,” he huffed.

He touched the side of the bed in what may have been a bid to climb back on. Either way, she _freaked_. “No!” she screamed. “No, no! Stay away from me!”

He stood. “Aqua?”

“Get away from me!” She crawled away from him, nearly falling off the bed. “Don’t touch me!”

He held his hands up. “Okay, if you want me to stop, I will. I’m not trying to rape you.”

She told him to stay away again, but with the sobs that were now wracking her body, who knew what he heard. He tried to shush her, coming closer, putting a finger to her lips, and that’s all it took for her for her to break.

“I _hate_ you!”

That shut him up. Shut them both up. The ensuing silence was filled by horror. Had she . . . had she actually said that? Did she mean it? She didn’t know anymore. She understood why he was doing this, why he had chosen her . . . but at the same time, _he was still doing this to her_.

Vanitas was staring at her, his face like stone. It was impossible to tell what was going on in his mind.

“Please . . . I want to go home.” Her voice had broken on that last scream, and now she could only whisper. “I can’t take this anymore. Vanitas, please, let me go.”

“You’re in the castle,” he said. “Isn’t that home? What more do you want?”

“No, it’s not the same!” Her knees curled up close to her chest. “I want my Master. I want my friends – I _need_ them.”

 _No, stop!_ Her rationale tried to make itself known, but she couldn’t hear it over the turmoil of her emotions.  “I want my friends back,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to be here. . .  I want them back!”

“Shut up.” Vanitas’s head was bowed as he spoke. He didn’t look at her.

“I-”

“I said _SHUT UP_!”

The slap smashed her head against the headboard again, the pain nearly splitting it in two. She lay there limply as Vanitas paced the small length of the room.

“You want to go back,” he snarled. “After everything I’ve done for you? I’ve protected you, loved you, given you everything I have – and you still want to go back! I’ve done everything they do for you, and _you still reject me_!”

He marched over, and grabbed her by the chin. “Fine. If you won’t love me as your friend,” he declared, “you can love me as your fucking _master_!”

He flipped her onto her stomach before hoisting himself back onto the bed where he straddled her, furious breathes warming the back of her neck.

“And as your master,” he hissed into her ear, “the first thing I’m going to do is lay my claim.”

With that, he very deliberately took a scalpel from the medical tray. Her connection with Rainfell swelled, but it only made her headache even worse. She turned her head, caught a glimpse of his eyes, saw the rage swirling there . . .

And for the first time in her life, Aqua gave up.

She screamed as the blade bit into her flesh. He’d chosen her back, right where it was exposed, where everyone would be sure to see his mark. Once, twice, he carved a deep line into her, lighting up nerves along the way. Though she had abandoned all hope of defeating him, she still writhed out of instinct.

The scalpel clanged as he threw it to the ground. “No, no. . .” He leaned down low, murmuring to himself rapidly. “I . . . shit . . . I didn’t . . .”

A healing spell, one that was not her own, washed over her.

“I didn’t mean to do that!” he said. “I was just . . . you made me so angry! I can’t lose you – I _refuse_.”

Hearing his resolve, she closed her eyes.

She was never getting out of here.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . .” He stroked the side of her face. “I didn’t want to do that, but you keep pushing me, Aqua. Why do you have to be so _difficult_?”

She said nothing, just let his words pass over her.

Suddenly, Vanitas stood, summoning his keyblade. “What -?”

He went rigid, and screamed, “No!”

Without warning, a wall burst like a balloon, the hole framing a figure –

Light poured in, so intense that even she felt the burn. She yelped, curling into herself, shielding her eyes against the onslaught.

A hand grabbed the scruff of her shirt.

She was yanked upwards off the table, onto something else. Strong arms cradled her, supporting her as the violent movement made her queasy. The light still filled the room, blinding her to its inhabitants. However, the person holding her appeared immune. Although it should have been impossible for that person to see, they seemed able to anyways. They, with her as cargo, swivelled around, flying out through the hole that had appeared before.

Out in the open, the blinding light died away. She shyly looked up at the one who held her, speaking in a whisper.

“Master?”

Master Eraqus shushed her, hugging her tight. He smelt sour, like sweat, but she couldn’t care less. She buried her face into his clothes, crying openly, saying that one word over and over again.

“Master, we have to go!”

Ven? That was Ven! She looked sideways, finding him hovering on a keyblade glider. But if that was him, then who was the person sharing his glider? A person who . . . was wearing Ven’s armour? And where was Terra?

There was no time to ponder that as Eraqus angled the glider upwards, shooting towards the distant sky. Ven followed closely, casting some sort of spell that made the fog clear away, exposing the wide expanse of space and its promise of freedom.

Back at the castle, there was an explosion.

“Aqua,” Eraqus spoke in a very low, very controlled voice, “call upon your keyblade.”

She blinked, confused, then made the mistake of looking down. There, in the center of the funnel Ven had carved through the fog, was Vanitas swooping towards them.

“No, no!” Her knuckles went white as she gripped her Master’s shirt. “Master, please, I’m not strong enough!”

“Aqua, you must!”

“No, I can’t! I can’t fight him-”

Eraqus grabbed her shoulders.

“Aqua,” he said, “trust me.”

She stared into her Master’s strong eyes, then, with a shudder, summoned Rainfell.

Ven called, “Guys, watch out!”

Eraqus grabbed her and then the glider tucked into a roll, narrowly skimming past Vanitas’s Thundaga spell. At least, that’s what she thought happened. The roll had made her dizzy, clawing at her mind like hooks that were trying to tear her brain in half. Had her Master not been there, she would have stumbled right off the glider.

Ven and Eraqus exchanged a look, and then the two were weaving in, out and around each other in an elaborate pattern, still managing to avoid Vanitas’s shots. Faintly, she remembered practicing these same manoeuvres with Terra. Those memories were foggy though, and hard to grasp when she was tumbling through the air and the pressure in her head was stretching down her body –

Light, she was going to be sick.

He levelled out, and she gasped, sucking in deep, cool gulps of air. His face set, cheeks pinched with tension, Eraqus frowned and said, “Aqua, you must concentrate.”

Panting, she stared at him helplessly. On what? What did he want her to do?

A forked yellow light slithered past them. A Thunder spell, but not Vanitas’s. Ahead of them, perched on the back of Ven’s glider, the boy wearing Ven’s armour was shakily aiming his keyblade at Vanitas. He was missing, quite badly too, but at least he was doing something.

She should be, too. That must be what Eraqus wanted from her. Arming Rainfell with Stopaga, she tried to line it up with Vanitas’s form. However, he was just as agile as he, and what few spells she did fire off didn’t even graze him.

Eraqus shouted in alarm, pulling the tip of his glider back as he veered sharply. It was enough to make her slip, for her foot to slide off the glider, the momentum pulling her over even as she groped at the sleek metal –

Eraqus practically dove on top of her. His arms locked around her, hauling her up as her legs kicked fitfully. All around them, raptors circled, featherless and covered in raw, pink skin. Even as Vanitas came up from beneath them, they were diving, talons outstretched . . .

“Stop! Leave them alone!”

To her astonishment, the monsters actually listened to Ven. They changed their course, missing her and Eraqus, afterwards staring at Ven with confused warbles.

“No!” Vanitas shrieked. “Stop them!”

“No!” Ven said. “Go away.”

The raptors chittered among themselves, staying close but neither attacking nor retreating. How, why . . .?

“Aqua!”

She realized that Eraqus had been trying to talk to her. Speaking quickly now, he urged her to morph Rainfell into its glider form. And she would have, but she couldn’t quite recall how.

Vanitas raised his arm, and it lit up with darkness that formed a sharp blade.

Eraqus, still crouched and trying to get her to respond, finally saw how very close Vanitas was to them. Too close for them to dodge now. He leaned over her, sheltering her, and swiftly slammed down on the armoured piece on his shoulder.

His armour appeared a moment before Vanitas swung, and Aqua was certain that her Master actually leaned _into_ the blow, stopping it cold before it could reach her. The darkness ripped through the metal with a shrill shriek while at the same time, the edge of the glider sliced into Eraqus’s waist. Her Master made no noise, but grabbed the site, blood trickling out from between his fingers.

Vanitas screeched to a stop above them, charging up a ball of darkness. Without any fanfare, he lobbed it at them, and it streamed down like a flaming comet.

She threw up a shield. That much she _could_ do. The darkness broke against the barrier and the pressure wasn’t just there, but in her mind. Around it, a band tightened as the barrier withstood the darkness’ might, making her face scrunch up in pain.

Vanitas sensing her weakness, pointed at them, and then dove, intent on using brute force to break the spell. Seeing him, she panicked, and the barrier rapidly flickered in and out of existence.

Then Ven slammed into the side of Vanitas’s glider, filling the air with a rain of sparks. The two, locked together, tumbled past her and Eraqus. The armoured boy suddenly ejected from Ven’s glider, changing his keyblade into his own mount.

Wait, wasn’t that Sora’s glider?

As if summoned by that thought, a little above them, just on the edge of the fog, a dark keyblade glider poked out. For an instant, she locked gazes with the hooded Riku, whose hands flashed with darkness as he raised them . . .

And lowered them again.

With no further fanfare, Riku retreated and fled into the fog, leaving Vanitas to face them alone.

Further down, Ven and Vanitas broke apart, soaring directly away from each other before spinning around. Ven’s eyes snapped to Vanitas; Vanitas’s eyes snapped to her. She whimpered and hid behind her Master.

“Ventus, come!” Eraqus said.

Ven obeyed, shooting up towards them, followed closely by Vanitas whose mask was sliding to cover his face. He looked inhuman now, a wraith dedicated solely to the pursuit.

“Aqua, your glider!”

She struggled to recall the magic that would permit that, dragging it out of the murky depths of her mind. She did, so, finally, and hardly a second after it appeared did Eraqus leap onto it, pulling her with him. He scooped up his own glider-turned-keyblade, and pointed it at the demon below.

“Be gone!” he shouted.

The light escaped Master Keeper like a cannon blast, roaring. Ven, caught on the fringe, span wildly out of control before righting himself. Vanitas had been too close to fully dodge and Aqua saw him raise a shield right before the blast consumed him. But he was a darkness user, his spell wouldn’t hold up to the might of Eraqus’s . . .

And before her astounded eyes, Eraqus’s spell ended, and Vanitas was battered, but most definitely standing.

Eraqus acted quickly and the skies rumbled as lightning passed in and out of the fog. The enchanted bolt did not move like its natural brethren, but like an underwater serpent, twisting and coiling as Eraqus directed it again and again to lunge at its prey.

“Fly,” he said to her.

She did, reaching up towards the stars, at the promise that was so near –

She had no idea what kind of spell Vanitas shouted, but whatever it was, it was effective. _Very_ effective. Before any of them could leave the world, the small border between space and atmosphere turned purple. Hexagonal plates, much like the ones in her Barrier spell, shimmered into view, glinting like the edge of a knife. She, Sora and Ven stopped short, staring at the barrier as the reality hit them.

Vanitas had sealed the world.

His pace was slower now, mask gone, and he wore that awful grin of a cat who had finally found the mouse’s hidey-hole, the grin of someone who had _won_. She could hardly breathe for fear; it wasn’t just her that Vanitas was going to reclaim, but Ven, Sora, her Master. Light, he had them right in his grasp!

Ven swallowed, preparing to fight. Sora backed away from Vanitas, knocking against the barrier that her Master was staring at. The four of them, they could beat him, right?

“No,” Eraqus muttered, “why are you listening to him?”

“Master?” she said, confused.

He wasn’t paying any attention to her. “I am your master,” he barked into the air, “not he. I am guardian of this land!”

A pulse seemed to go through the air, like a spell.

“This world is under my stewardship,” Eraqus said, Master Keeping glowing. “I sit upon its throne. Now, I bid you, let us pass!”

Nothing happened.

Then, there was a crack in the barrier.

“This way!” Master Eraqus cried. Together, the three gliders plunged through the widening gap, only a few seconds ahead of their foe.

Eraqus whirled around. “ _Seal_.”

The hole closed. The barrier rippled, changing colours from purple to white as it heeded its master’s commands. Vanitas slammed against it, but it did not move. He smashed it again and again with fists of darkness, but it refused to yield.

Locked inside the world, Vanitas desperately met her gaze.

Then she was yanked away as Eraqus took control of her glider and sent them into space.


	33. Chapter 33

They flew silently through space. In their aftermath of their daring – and even more incredibly, _successful_ – rescue, there wasn’t much to say. Master Eraqus led the way, radiating a strong, comforting silence in a way only he knew how. Though he no longer stood on Aqua’s glider, they were so close that they might as well have been sharing. It was probably better that way, as Aqua didn’t seem very steady on her feet. As of now, her armour prevented Ven from telling what ailed her, but he had seen enough. He had seen the two scars on her back, two straight lines forming a perfect ‘V’.

There was absolutely no way that shape was a coincidence.

 “Master,” he said, “how long until Vanitas breaks out?”

Master Eraqus was silent for a moment. “He is already free,” he admitted to their horror. “The control he has over that world, it is incredible.”

Well, that explained the Master’s brisk pace. Immediately, Ven looked at Aqua, but it was impossible to know what she was thinking behind that helmet.

“Is he . . .” Sora said.

“I believe not,” Eraqus said. “Even with all his powers, he can fly no faster than us. Our lead should be sufficient to evade him.”

They continued on their journey, the silence saying everything. Ven lingered at the back of the group, taking over what would have been Terra’s role. He wove back and forth, keeping them all in sight, checking behind every couple of minutes. Each time, he half-expected to see his dark half speeding towards them, but instead found only a void.

Time passed, and the tiny world of The Mysterious Tower came within view. A collective sigh escaped the group, and he thought Eraqus hunched over slightly, as if ready to nod off. He and Aqua passed into the world’s boundaries, not looking back, Sora on their tail.

And Ven crashed into an invisible wall.

He lay there, suspended in midair, while he regrouped. His keyblade had automatically morphed back into its original form, and he scooped it up, staring down in confusion. He could not see what it was that stopped him; it looked like he was floating. However, something was there, blocking him, making a hollow sound when he knocked.

Eraqus saw him and returned, passing straight through a spot that had been solid to Ven just moments before. The boy touched that place again, only to find that it was still solid.

“Master?”

Eraqus clenched his jaw. “Sit tight,” he said before diving towards the tower.

Ven obeyed. Below, Sora and Aqua watched him, neither sure what to do.

He wasn’t sure what had happened, but suddenly the invisible wall disappeared. One moment, he was stomping around the clouds, the next he was falling. His keyblade swooped under him, changing into his glider, sparing him from what would have been a very messy end.

“What happened” Aqua asked.

He shrugged.

“That, I’m afraid, was of my doing,” Yen Sid said. He and Master Eraqus stood between the tower’s open doors, a king beholding his kingdom. His gait held the nobility and pride of a fully-grown lion and with the way he held his hands out and his robe flared out in the wind, Ven almost thought that Yen Sid expected a crowd to appear out of nowhere and cheer him.

“What did you do?” Aqua asked, and Ven was alarmed to hear a note of suspicion in her voice.

“I had created a ward meant to shield against Vanitas,” Yen Sid told her. “I did not anticipate that it would affect Ventus, too.”

Ven flinched. It made sense, that a ward against Vanitas would be a ward against him. Technically, they _were_ the same person, after all.

 _But Aqua . . ._ He turned to look at his older friend. She was, and would always be, Vanitas’s prime target. And if his presence would strip her of protection . . .

“Now that you have arrived,” Yen Sid was saying, “perhaps you could handle Terra?”

He face-palmed. What had Terra done now? Ven knew that the older boy, much like himself, could be a magnet for trouble, and –

Hold up. Wasn’t Terra supposed to be asleep?

“What has he done?” Eraqus said, a trace of weariness in his voice.

“He-”

Yen Sid was cut off by a roar.

Ven took a step forwards. “Terra . . .”

Yen Sid threw an arm out, barring his path. “He is . . . unstable,” the wizard said.

“But didn’t the spell put him to sleep?” Ven asked.

Yen Sid closed his eyes. “Yes, and in a way, I believe he is still thus. However, he has . . . he has fallen into some state of violence. It appears to be directed at nothing in particular, but he is . . . very dangerous.”

Great. Oh, great. Just what he needed. At least he had Aqua with him now, so they could break Terra out of this spell. Speaking of whom, although she still appeared shaken from her ordeal at Vanitas’s hands, he could see her taking deep breaths in preparation for this next task.

“Where is he now?” Eraqus asked with a sigh.

“Restrained. My apprentice is keeping an eye on him.”

Eraqus made a move, presumably to make his way back to the tower, but Ven quickly cut in front of him. “Master, let me and Aqua go. I don’t think Terra will react well if you try to help him . . . he won’t be happy to see you.”

The curtness of his words made Eraqus freeze.  The expression on his face was something Ven had never seen directed at him before: rage.  For a fleeting second, it actually looked like Eraqus wanted to punch him.

But then it was gone, replaced by weary acceptance and pain. Eraqus nodded, not meeting his apprentice’s eyes, and stepped aside.  Ven swallowed a hard lump in his throat, exchanged a look with Aqua, and then took his first steps towards the tower.

When they entered, Ven swore he could hear the breathing of some gigantic beast. But there was no one in the room with him except for Aqua, and she seemed to have stopped breathing completely. She trembled slightly, like a leaf in a breeze, biting her lip as she carefully looked around. Ven wiped the sweat off his forehead; though the tower looked no different than the last time he had been here, he knew not to take Terra’s potential threat lightly.

It was after they climbed the first flight that damage finally became visible. Down the long hallway, huge gorges had been carved into the wall. They were black at the edges, as if scorched, though Ven would bet that no fire had touched this place. Rubble had been strewn around too; here, it appeared someone had grabbed a wooden table and smashed it; over there, the top half of a door had been missing. The sense of danger was very real and in a weird twist of déjà vu, Ven felt like he was walking through a building in Silent Hill.

They found Mickey with his keyblade drawn, watching a magically-chained door suspiciously. On the crisscrossing chain lengths, arcs of electricity leapt from one end to another, fading with a sharp crack. The metal itself occasionally shimmered silver, as if someone was repeatedly shining a light on it.

“He’s behind there, isn’t he?” Ven asked.

Mickey jumped at his voice. “Oh, you’re back!” he said. “Did ya find her?”

He grinned. “Sure did. Aqua, this is Yen Sid’s apprentice, Mickey.”

Mickey walked over, taking her hand in an energetic handshake. “How do ya do?”

“I’ve been better,” she said quietly, voice hoarse. Hearing that didn’t make Ven feel good. He tried to catch her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to look at him. After, when his eyes slid down the slope of her face, he noticed that the scars on her back weren’t the only new wounds she carried. On her neck was a wound of some sort, no longer bleeding, but still bright red. And when he took a step closer to better examine it, he could see marks in the flesh around it . . . teeth marks

_What the hell had Vanitas been doing to her?_

In that terrible moment, he knew nothing more than that mark on her flesh . . . and hate. It boiled up from a place deep inside him, turning his blood hot and filling it with poison. His heart had no darkness, that was a fact, but still he doubted it. Surely, this utter hatred he felt _had_ to be some form of darkness.

He clenched his fists, bit the insides of his cheeks, forced himself to get over it. It was in the past. It was done. Vanitas wasn’t hurting her anymore.

But still . . .

“Aqua, let me go in first.” If he reacted that way to her injuries, who knew how Terra would react?

“Ven –”

“You’ll excite him,” Ven said firmly. “It’ll just be harder to calm him down.”

She frowned, but did not argue. So, he turned to Mickey and said, “Let me in.”

When the chains retreated and the door opened, Ven had the sense of walking into an arena. He could almost see the crowds on either side of him, murmuring to each other with bloodthirsty excitement. But it was not words of encouragement – or discouragement – he heard, but heavy breathing, like a wounded bear. The room was barren and dark; a single floating orb provided the only light. It was an orange orb, giving off a glow similar to that of a campfire, that washed over the stones, reaching across the floor greedily until it began to peter out near the wall.

There, Terra lay. The light brushed him gently, highlighting the spikey tips of his hair before fading into darkness at his shoulders. Terra was motionless, chained up aggressively so that his torso seemed to be nothing more than metallic links. Somewhere underneath them, his arms had been buried. It actually pained Ven to see him in this state, especially since Terra was so lifeless.

“Terra?”

Terra’s head twitched, but nothing else.

“Terra? It’s me, Ven. I found Aqua. She’s safe, now.” Seeing no threat, Ven reached out and touched Terra’s chest.

The older boy’s muscles tightened. Slowly, Terra raised his head, eyes closed.

“Terra . . .”

A beat. Then Terra’s glowing yellow eyes opened.

They were pupil-less.

Ven leapt back as Terra strained at the chains, hissing at first, then starting to roar. The chains drew taut, rattled, and Ven narrowly managed to avoid having Mickey and Aqua storm in, throwing himself against the door and insisting he had it all under control.

Terra bellowed. His shadow reared on the wall behind him, his, and yet different. For this shadow had antennas where they were none, and waved in a way that didn’t quite match its source.

“Terra, stop!”

Terra paused for a second, then flew right back into his tantrum, more violent than ever. He twisted and turned, howling, and to Ven’s shock, he had _fangs_.

Ven had no idea what happened, but Terra seemed to slide _through_ the chains. They collapsed to the ground in a series of clinks, useless. Hunched over, head bowed, Terra simply gasped for breath. His arms rose on either side of him, flexing, revelling in their freedom.

“H-hey, Terra.”

Terra blinked and looked at him, head cocked to one side. He didn’t seem aggressive. Not towards him, at least. Ven forced a smile onto his face, held up a hand as if wanting to shake Terra’s. Terra cooed, an inhuman sound that nevertheless made Ven relax slightly.

He stomped past Ven then, hesitated in front of the door. And then proceeded to rip it apart with his hands.

“Aw, crud! Terra, no!” Ven lunged, throwing himself onto the older boy’s neck and securing a chokehold.

Terra didn’t seem to notice him, but he didn’t leave the room either. Instead, he abruptly stepped back in, hauling an alarmed Aqua with him. He had gripped her by the shoulders, towering over her, rumbling in contentment, nearly purring, as he rubbed his cheek against hers. That changed however when Terra started to growl, staring past her at Mickey, who had his keyblade ready.

“Mickey, hold on,” Ven said. “Just back up and give us some space.”

It was easy to tell that Mickey really, really did not like that suggestion. But he listened, letting his keyblade drop as he watched with hooded eyes. Upon seeing his former opponent give ground, Terra sneered, then slammed the door shut.

Well, what was left of it anyways.

He pushed Aqua behind him, right into Ven. She actually didn’t seem that frightened, surprising since the caution with which she moved revealed that she knew this wasn’t _their_ Terra they were dealing with, but the Terra that had been left over by Maleficent. At least this time Terra didn’t seem to have an interest in attacking them.

Not yet.

“Let’s wake him up,” he said to Aqua.

Not really getting it, she nodded, and then snapped her fingers in front of Terra.

“It’s not that easy,” he told her. “He’s under an enchantment so we need to give him a cure . . .”

He trailed off because, though he didn’t want to admit it, he was really excited about seeing Aqua’s reaction.

Impatiently, she said, “Which is?”

“Love’s First Kiss.”

She went a very interesting shade of red.

“Love’s First Kiss?” she spluttered. “B-but he . . . I . . .” Her eyes bugged out, neatly contrasting her attempts to remain calm. “I d-don’t . . . it could be anyone, Ven. How are we supposed to find her?”

Arms crossed, he raised his eyebrows, fighting not to smirk. “Really, Aqua? Really?”

“I-I . . .” Her lips worked, but no sound came out. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

Oh, but she did. She was hugging herself, cheeks flush with colour as she insisted at staring at one of the room’s corners. Her embarrassment was such that she was almost radiating heat. He bet this situation wasn’t anything close to how she imagined her confession going.

“I’m talking about _you_ ,” he said sweetly. “You have to kiss him.”

She buried her face in her hands. “ _Ven_!”

“Oh, come on!” He pranced around her. “Aqua, I know you like him. And he _definitely_ likes you.”

Forget red; her face was bordering on fuchsia now. “Ven-”

He switched his tone to serious. “Just try,” he said. “We got nothing to lose. If it doesn’t work then, well, I guess we’ll look for someone else.”

There was a flicker of fear in her eyes, and Ven could only sigh. She actually thought she might not be the one.

Why were his friends so stupid sometimes?

Aqua walked up to Terra, who was still standing by the ruined door. As far as Ven could tell, Mickey was gone, probably updating the two Masters on the situation. She tapped Terra on the shoulder, drawing his attention, then carefully put her hand on his cheek. She stared not at his face, but his broad chest, only gaining the courage to meet his eyes when he cooed gently.

Before anything happened, her head whipped around. She glared at Ven, clearly demanding for him to look away. Holding his hands up in a message of surrender, he obeyed, spinning around and covering his eyes. He didn’t really mind; it would probably be gross anyways.

Even though he was telling himself that, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to listen. He didn’t hear much, just the rustle of fabric. Then, a sharp clap as Aqua’s metal shoes banged against the ground.

He turned. Aqua had pulled away from Terra, a horrified look on her face.

“It didn’t work,” she breathed.

What? _What_? It had to have worked! There was absolutely no reason why it shouldn’t have. Yet that was Terra standing right there, still hunched, still not himself.

“It didn’t work Ven,” she repeated. “It’s not me. We g-got the wrong person.”

She wasn’t taking this well. Her chest heaved as she practically hyperventilated, violent breathing only worsened by the vigorous shaking of her head. Her eyes were glistening, filled with tears that she struggled to hold back.

“Maybe Yen Sid got the wrong cure?” he said. It _had_ to be her. He had seen all the longing stares they’d thrown at each other, those quiet moments they’d had on the couch; the way Terra doted over her and the soft smiles she granted him in return. It made no sense for it to be anyone else; for crying out loud, Terra had _confessed_ at the Castle of Dreams.

“He’s not wrong,” Aqua said. “We are. It’s not me, it was never me –”

Suddenly Terra reached out, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

And his eyes were blue, not gold.

“T-Terra?” Sluggishly, as if waking from a dream, Aqua turned her head and looked at him.

It was not quite a smile he gave her, but not a frown either. It was a look rooted in the deepest of concentration, a scientist studying a specimen he had spent a decade hunting. One powerful hand cradled her chin, even as it pointed away from him again. The other moved up to her eyes, wiping away her tears. Delicately, Terra turned her head as to face him, lifted her chin . . .

His lips met hers.


	34. Chapter 34

Winded, legs feeling like jelly, Terra was on his hands and knees as he stared down his opponent: that weird _thing_. The guardian waited across from him, arms crossed over its muscular chest. In all the time they’d been fighting, neither had a thing to show for it, save an assortment of bruises. Terra grunted, wiped the blood from his lip, and charged.

They clashed, claw against blade, blows marked with shrieks and the glint of shifting metal. His helmet had been knocked off long ago, and it remained on the sidelines, an observer of this awesome violence. The rest of Terra’s armour was scratched up, gnawed upon, dented. And in return, a dark mist poured from the guardian’s back, right where the spine would be, as it bled in the only way heartless knew how.

They broke apart, panting, circling each other like two raptors preparing for the kill. Terra’s talons was his blade, swinging through the air with a low whistle as it sought to tear into its prey, only to cleave empty air as the guardian ducked into the shadows. The momentum carried him in a full circle, just in time for him to block an uppercut from the newly-emerged guardian.

It exploded in a burst of darkness. Terra reeled back, holding Earthshaker steady in preparation of what may come. On the other side of the explosion, the guardian waited again, eyes cold and predatory.

Terra growled, called magic to his fingers –

Warmth. It flooded him, stemming from his heart and spread outwards. The guardian hissed nervously as above, the black space flashed with specks of white. Like a hook had been sunken into his back, Terra suddenly found himself reeled upwards, up and away from the guardian and the glass Station –

And he was propelled into the most wonderful dream.

Something soft was pressing against his lips, so fleeting that he may have imagined it. Gentle hands encircled his neck, exerting just enough pressure to keep him still. And that scent, oh that sweet scent; he knew it well.

_Aqua_?

Then it was gone, and he felt uncomfortably cold. He picked that up even through the dreamy haze that clouded his mind. He felt like he was floating, dancing on clouds, and the lightness made him giddy and forget the weariness that plagued his body.

But hold on. Aqua seemed upset. She was shaking, speaking, it seemed, to Ven. No, this wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be sad. Not when he felt so _good_.

He reached out. Wiped her tears away. There. That was better. This was no place for sorrow.

“T-Terra?”

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. For a little bit, he simply stared, hoping that she would speak his name again. When it failed to happen, it didn’t bother him. Oh no, he couldn’t be bothered. Not now.

And with all the tenderness his patience would permit, he closed the distance between them.

It was better than anything he had dreamed of. Her scent consumed him, caught him in its snares. It crept along his mind, numbing it into submission, until all he knew was this primal, wonderful _need_. A need to keep her close, feel her body against his. Her skin was so soft, like silk. How was that possible? How could the hands of such a strong, unwavering warrior seem so delicate?

“Aqua . . .” He sighed her name. When had she become so beautiful?

It was his first kiss, and he never knew how cumbersome noses were until that point. It took a bit of turning and shifting to get them out of the way, but finally they found that place where things just _fit_. Her lips moulded perfectly against his, as she had been made specifically for him. But he knew it wasn’t that; no, she was just perfect.

And she had chosen him.

Light, he was so inadequate. Couldn’t even keep his head on straight when he was around her. This had to be a dream. Had to be, because he didn’t deserve her. She deserved someone better than him, someone who wouldn’t lose his temper and yell at her, who would treat her like the princess she was.

He drew away, rested his forehead against hers. His brain scrambled for something to say, but everything he thought of was lacking. And if it wasn’t perfect, he couldn’t say it.

So, he held her, said nothing. Just savoured the warmth of her body against his.

“Terra . . .”

He looked at her, and the emotions he saw there were so strong, so pure, it blew him away. This, all of this, it wasn’t a dream. It was _real_.

“Uh, is it safe to look yet?”

_Ven_. Terra scowled and glared at the youngest apprentice, who cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Just asking,” Ven said, “because I’m right here, you know, and you two are practically . . . yeah.”

Well, that killed the mood. Rolling his eyes, he ruffled Ven’s hair, then turned back to Aqua and –

She was crying.

“Aqua?” He frowned in concern, lifting her chin so that he could see her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He blinked. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry . . .”

She fell against him, burying her face in his chest, saying those words over and over again. She gripped handfuls of his shirt, refusing to let Terra pry her fingers off.

“Aqua . . .?”

But Aqua refused to be comforted, and he and Ven could only stand there as she continued to weep.

* * *

“Things seem to be alright, Master,” Mickey said. “I think Terra and Aqua have taken care of the situation.”

“Excellent,” Yen Sid said. “Thank you, Mickey. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, Master!”

Mickey scampered off and Yen Sid closed the door behind him, afterwards turning to his guest. Master Eraqus was seated on a chair against the wall, hands on his knees as he slumped over.

“Now,” Yen Sid said, “perhaps we can discuss Terra. There is something wrong with that boy, Eraqus and . . .”

He trailed off. Not because Eraqus had said anything, but simply because of the way he had _moved_. His head had rolled to the side to stare at him, boneless in its fashion. It was a terrible look that made the old Master’s face sagged, one that Yen Sid had never seen on his old friend, or ever.

Complete, utter hopelessness.

“Where have I gone wrong?” Eraqus whispered.

Yen Sid frowned. “Eraqus, I do not believe that what is happening with your apprentice is in any way related to your teachings. More likely, it is some product of Silent Hill.”

Eraqus acted as if Yen Sid had not spoken. He was staring straight ahead now, focused on some point in space. A chill ran down the old wizard’s spine.

“To return to the subject of Terra, I would request that –”

“I’m a failure.”

Another chill. A warning siren went off in Yen Sid’s mind. Something in Eraqus’s tone had alerted him to danger; not to him, Mickey or any of Eraqus’s wards, but to the keyblade Master himself.

“Eraqus,” Yen Sid grabbed his shoulder, “none of this is your fault.”

“But it is!” A blur of motion as Eraqus stood. The chair swung to the other side of the room, crashing against the wall. “I sent them there! I did! I delivered them right to that monster. Everything that’s happened, everything that _is_ happening, it is my fault.”

Shock kept Yen Sid still, a blessing since the role of the calm, wise adviser clearly fell upon him. “You did not know,” he pointed out. “Eraqus, we cannot predict the future.”

But Eraqus was long past listening. “I sent them there,” he raved, pacing, “to a world I knew so little about. And for what? To seek out a man who had once left me with these?” Eraqus traced the scars on his face. “A man whom, up to his demise, was planning to murder me?

Murder? “Eraqus, what is this you speak of?”

Eraqus whirled around so rapidly that Yen Sid took a step back. Usually, Eraqus was the picture of calm. But at this moment, he was anything but. His eyes were wide, almost bulging out of his head, and his sweaty hands pawed at Yen Sid’s robes, like a child burying himself in his parent’s arms for comfort.

“Do you know what he tried to do with Ventus?” Eraqus hissed. “The X-Blade. He could never let it go. He sensed Ventus had the potential to summon it, so he tried . . . oh, he tried . . .”

He could feel himself paling. Yen Sid had always known something wasn’t quite right with Master Xehanort, especially when Eraqus had told him of the damaged state Ventus had been in, but he had not known that things had gone this far.

“Eraqus . . .” He put a hand on the man’s back.

Eraqus pulled away, almost spitting. “I killed him.”

He forced himself not to react. “Eraqus, Xehanort died over eight months ago. You –”

“I killed him!” Eraqus shouted. “I don’t know how, but he was there, in Silent Hill, and he kept taunting me. He wouldn’t stop talking about them, or our Master, and he . . . It wasn’t my fault. Anyone would have done it. I _had_ to stop him!”

“Eraqus-!”

“The look on his face, that look of betrayal as I slayed him . . . Oh, it’s the same one Terra gives me now. I’ve failed, Yen Sid. One simple duty, and I’ve failed.”

Eraqus stepped back until he hit the desk. He stared at the ceiling, arms limp in total defeat. “I’ve failed everyone.”

“Eraqus, you must control yourself.” Yen Sid marched forwards, intent on taking control of this conversation again. “Do you not remember what your students told you? The place in which you found yourself is a town of deceit. Lies. You must let go of what you saw there.”

Eraqus shook his head. “No lies, my friend. He was right. I am a failure. The only duty of a keyblade Master is to protect, and I cannot even do that.”

“You are an excellent keyblade Master, Eraqus,” Yen Sid said firmly. “Few can match your skill.”

His laughter was hoarse and bitter, suddenly switching to a vicious snarl. “Skill in what? What good have I done? My family was slain by heartless; my Master ambushed and left for dead; my fellow apprentice turned traitor and I still vouched for him; the world I was chosen to defend has been consumed by darkness; and my apprentices can barely breathe without being haunted by this same nightmare!”

Eraqus held his hand out, and Master Keeper appeared. Yen Sid started forwards, seeing the manic gleam in the other Master’s eyes.

“Eraqus-!”

“I am a failure, Yen Sid. I am not a keyblade Master.”

He threw Master Keeper onto the desk with a clang.

Then, Eraqus walked out the door.

* * *

Things fell back to their normal routine after that. At least, as normal as it could be. The announcement that Eraqus had surrendered his title of Keyblade Master came later that evening, and the man himself refused to hear any questions. For the trio, it was a terrible blow. Aqua had furrowed her brow, the consequences of Eraqus’s decision not quite sinking in. Terra, stiff-legged, arms crossed over his chest, had snorted with derision, but Ven thought he could detect a trace of worry there. Ven himself, days later, was still trying to grasp the new state of things.

Eraqus had locked himself in one of Yen Sid’s spare rooms, requesting that all meals be brought to him. And next to that door that never opened, was only that was always slightly ajar. That was Sora and Kairi’s shared room. As no one was surprised to hear, Kairi hadn’t moved from the position Sora left her in. Now though, occasionally Kairi was moved to another spot as Sora claimed that he was somehow able to tell when she was cold.

Sora himself alternated between being a hermit and a mother hen. For hours on end, he would camp out in his room, staring at Kairi with bloodshot eyes. His body in those instances only spoke of resignation; Sora had made no more demands to return to Silent Hill.

However, sometimes Sora would leave his room and Kairi, and then he hovered. He was constantly following Ven or Aqua around, badgering them about their old injuries, despite the fact that he had injured been the worst. When he had rescued them, Eraqus had furthered Ven’s healing spell, most likely saving Sora’s life. Yen Sid had finished it, and now a patch of new skin covered Sora’s old wound, a lighter shade than the rest of his body. Still, sometimes Ven would see him limp, wincing in sudden pain.

And he wasn’t the only one undergoing mood swings. Most of the time, Terra was hanging around Aqua; when he wasn’t, he was with Ven; and when he wasn’t with either of them, he was out pacing the grounds like an agitated cougar. Even though Aqua had (wisely) refused to tell him – to tell anyone – what had happened while she was alone with Vanitas, the marks on her body left enough clues. Now, with Terra as frustrated and wrathful as he was, Sora and Mickey didn’t dare go near him; even Ven, at times, was hesitant. Only Aqua was spared from his impulsive wrath.

It was a great thing she was, because Aqua had enough to deal with. Most days, she remained in her room, staring into space. Always on her back. Sora had made the mistake of pointing out her scars, and she went out of her way to avoid letting him see them again. Sometimes though, when she thought she was alone, Ven would see her sitting up, reaching back to feel those grooves carved into her skin . . .

She wouldn’t cry about it; she hadn’t done much crying lately. And when she spoke, it was in a monotone. When she moved, it was like a cripple. Vanitas had destroyed her, snapped her open and sucked out her soul the way one would suck marrow from a bone. The only things she did freely was whatever she was told to do, and while Terra seemed to be okay with it, her submissiveness scared the hell out of Ven.

All of this Ven reflected upon as he sat on the steps to Yen Sid’s tower, watching the skies. He was watching for Vanitas, because they all knew he would be back. They just didn’t know when, or how. However, Ven was willing to say it would be sooner than later. Vanitas would want to strike before they regrouped, before Aqua was glued back together. After all, he wouldn’t want all the precious ‘work’ he invested in her to be spoiled.

He waited outside until dusk, at which point Mickey arrived to take the watch. Though Yen Sid had said such precautions were unnecessary, he and Mickey insisted on this regardless. As the only two (excluding Yen Sid) who still clung to their former selves, they’d adopted the roles of caregiver and protector, switching whenever one grew tired. Mickey gave him a nod, and Ven yawned, stretching his cramped legs.

“No trouble?” Mickey asked.

“Nah, nothing,” he said.

Mickey gave him a curious work. “If that’s true, then why do ya look so sad?”

“I’m not sad. It’s just . . .” He sighed. “It’s already been a full week, and nothing! I just want this to be over with. All this waiting, it’s going to drive me nuts.”

“Well, think of it this way.” Mickey plopped down next to him. “Every day he waits is another day we grow stronger. He keeps this up and we’re bound to beat him!”

“He gave us eight months before,” Ven said. “Didn’t stop him from totally playing us.”

“Maybe, but this time’s different.”

“It is?”

“Sure it is!” Mickey said. “Ya got me and my Master, and there’s no one stronger than him!”

Ven looked at him. “I hope so. I mean I’m sure Yen Sid’s really strong, but Vanitas and Silent Hill, they use some really low tactics.”

“Maybe,” Mickey said, “but we’ve got Aqua now, so Vanitas has to come here.”

“That’s true,” Ven sighed. “At least we have that advantage.”

He hung around for a while after, watching the stars with Mickey. So long ago, it seemed, he and Terra had done the same back on their world. As he mulled over that memory, he could help but pull out his Wayfinder, which twinkled in the dying light. He closed his hand over it, worked his lips in a silent prayer, before hiding it in his shirt again.

“They’ll get better,” Mickey said. “Don’t worry.”

Ven managed a weak smile. It was nice that there was someone who still had full faith.

The mouse suddenly jumped to his feet. Eyes narrowed, he studied the expanse of space, Star Seeker appearing in a flash of white.

“Ven, look!” Mickey pointed upwards, at a pinprick that was erratically weaving back and forth.

Ven stared. “What . . .?”

It was growing bigger. Backing up towards the door, he, too, called his keyblade, standing side to side with Mickey. The other apprentice was glancing back at the tower, probably debating whether or not to fetch his Master.

“Go,” Ven said, “I’ll hold him off.” Though Ven questioned his chances against Vanitas – should it turn out to be him – he was certain that he would offer a better fight than Mickey.

Mickey nodded, a gesture mixed with compliance and respect, and ran inside. Ven braced himself, magic flying to his fingertips; no one was getting in here without his permission.

The dot grew and grew, changing into the undeniable form of a glider. This was a darkness user; the purple trail they left said so. From this distance, he still couldn’t tell who it was, but he thought the glider was different than Vanitas.

The intruder did not go for him. Instead, they nearly crash-landed in the middle of the garden, slowing down just in the brink of time. Didn’t stop them from tumbling off though, and while the glider neatly floated to earth, the person themselves landed in a painful-looking belly flop.

“Hello? Who are you?” Ven called.

The intruder wore a thick, black cloak. Ven gulped. Vanitas seemed to prefer his black and red bodysuit over the apparel of world-hoppers, but it could still be him. He was unpredictable enough for that to be a possibility. Thus, when the intruder started to stand, it was all Ven could do not to immediately attack.

_They’re lucky Terra’s not here_ , he thought aimlessly.

The intruder’s spine straightened, and Ven found his nervousness draining away. Whoever it was, they were too tall. It couldn’t be Vanitas.

“Who are you?” Ven asked again.

The intruder turned at the sound of his voice. Drunkenly, the intruder staggered towards Ven, finally tripping over an exposed tree root. His hood fell back as he did, revealing silver hair that seem to blend with the night, and a blindfold knotted tightly around his eyes.

Once more, Ven repeated his question. “Who are you?”

Breathing heavily, the boy looked up.

“R-Riku,” he managed, right before he fainted.


	35. Chapter 35

She was with Terra in her room when Mickey ran through the halls, shouting, “Master, there’s a trespasser!”

That was all it took for Terra to freak. He pounced, pinning her to the bed with his bulk, as if expecting Vanitas to spring out of nowhere and attack. Darkness sprouted from him, attached to his spine like a flaring mane. His eyes were a cold yellow, narrowed so the pupils almost appeared to be slits. Body stiff, hunched over her, he growled at his unseen foe.

Mickey ran past her room again, followed swiftly by his Master. Upon seeing them rushing away, Terra leapt up to follow, telling her very, very firmly to stay where she was.

She laughed bitterly. It wasn’t like she had any intention to tag along with Terra. Her knuckles were white as she hugged herself, not registering the pain as her nails broke through the skin. Was Vanitas back? No, who was she kidding – of _course_ he was. It had been stupid to think that she was free of him. No, he would come back for her. He would _always_ come back.

She drew her knees in against her chest, and waited. She knew that this was the safest place to be, that running would only make it easier for him to catch her. She had to trust the others to defend her.

Ven returned to her first and she assumed the worst, that the others had been defeated and he was rushing to get to her for a final stand. But no, it was quite the opposite, actually. He told her that in fact, the intruder had _not_ been Vanitas. It had been Riku.

She bit back her initial reaction. Riku was one of Vanitas’s slaves; how could he be here? The question was enough to get her out of bed and onto her feet, and she joined Ven as he ran out into the hall.

Yen Sid was supporting Riku, Mickey right beside him. Terra . . . well, he was behind them, but he didn’t seem friendly. His jaw was tightly clenched as he stalked behind, fingers curling as if yearning to make a fist. It was almost humorous how threatening Terra found this unconscious boy, and she might have seen it fit to step in if she could feel her legs.

They lay Riku down on a long table, at which point he regained consciousness. Hissing with pain, he held a hand up to his face, touching his left eye through the blindfold. The cloak he was wearing was so big, and he looked so very small.

“Riku, was it?” Yen Sid asked.

Riku turned his head, pointing it in the direction of the wizard as if the blindfold was transparent. “That’s me,” he said weakly.

“How?” Aqua said. “You were in Silent Hill . . .”

To everyone else, it seemed she was just going off Sora’s story: that Riku had been left behind. To her and Riku, however, she meant something else completely. Riku sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I did some things Vanitas didn’t like, and he was very angry,” Riku said simply. “I knew I had to run.”

She heard what everyone else didn’t: blame. He blamed her for whatever had happened between him and Vanitas. It jangled a nerve inside her, and she was hit with the urge to scream at him, because none of this was her fault. She hadn’t asked Vanitas to kidnap her, or to become obsessed with her; she hadn’t even _known_ him before Silent Hill. It wasn’t fair for Riku to blame her. Sure, he wanted her to stay in order to protect Kairi, but she had people she needed to protect, too!

“And you just got out intact, just like that?” Terra asked suspiciously.

In a quiet voice, Riku said, “Not intact.”

A door slammed. Faster than even Ven could usually move, Sora bolted into the room, throwing himself at his long-lost friend. The force knocked Riku onto his back, nearly pushing both of them off the table.

“R-Riku!”

That was the last thing Sora said for a while. He was too busy crying into his best friend’s chest. Riku was hugging him back, fingers digging deep into Sora’s skin as if frightened he would be torn away. No one else said anything, and most of them turned away, letting the two have their moment.

Riku spoke. “Sora, is Kairi . . .?”

“She won’t wake up,” Sora whimpered. “Riku, she’s lost her heart –”

“But she’s still alive, right?” Riku demanded. “Sora, is she alive?”

“Yes.”

She heard Riku gasp in relief. “Then we’re not done yet. We’re not beat.”

“I tried to go back for you. I’m sorry, Riku, I couldn’t save you . . . I _tried_ . . .”

And Riku was angry, but probably not in the way Sora had expected. “You shouldn’t have gone back,” Riku said quietly. “You could have been killed.”

“You could have been, too!”

In that moment, Riku glanced over Sora’s head right at Aqua. With no more than that gesture, he said his message clearly: Vanitas had no interest in killing him, not until she escaped, that was.

Sora touched Riku’s blindfold. “Riku, what is this for?”

He tried to pull it off Riku’s head, but Riku grabbed his wrist. “Sora, don’t.”

“Riku?” Sora’s eyes were wide. He had picked up on the note of fear in Riku’s voice.

“I . . .” He swallowed thickly. “Let me do it.”

Riku reached up, grabbed the back of the blindfold and started to pull. None of them could resist leaning in, curious to see what lay beneath the fabric. His right eye was revealed first, gold, the colour making Sora jump. Nearby, Terra growled, looking deeply troubled. The rest of the blindfold then left his face, exposing the bridge of his nose and his left . . .

Aqua gasped.

Riku’s left eye was missing.

The flesh around the socket was mottled purple and brown with bruises, scarred at the edges where some small knife had done its work. It wasn’t just the eye that had been carved away, but the lid as well, so when looking at the site, one had no choice but to stare at the raw, exposed tissue left over.

“He was mad,” was all Riku said. His single eye focused on her again, something Terra noticed. Matching Riku’s golden stare with his own, he stepped in front of her, blocking her from Riku’s sights.

“But you’re okay now,” Sora said. “You’ll get better, and then we’ll go get Kairi’s heart, and we can go back to the islands . . .”

Sora blabbed on. Riku didn’t say anything, didn’t speak the words that all of them were secretly thinking: Sora’s dream was just a fantasy. It seemed though, that Sora needed this release, as with each idea he got off his chest, his body uncoiled a little more.

Mickey touched her arm. “We should give ‘em some time alone,” he said.

She nodded. “Terra,” she pulled on his sleeve, “let’s go.”

They rose, and together with Ven and Yen Sid, left the room, letting the door close on the two reunited friends.

* * *

She found herself later alone with Ven. Terra had gone off to patrol the world, uneasy after Riku’s invasion. Ven, on the other hand, was the calmest he had been since their return, delighted that something had finally gone their way. She wasn’t sure how she felt. It was nice that someone had beaten Vanitas, but it still irked her how Riku seemed to blame her.

“I can’t believe he got away,” Ven said. “I mean, it took three people to get you out. I guess he’s lucky that Vanitas doesn’t care about him.”

“Terra can’t believe it either,” she mumbled.

“Yeah.” Ven rubbed the back of his neck. “Terra doesn’t trust him at all. Stay away from Riku for the next few days.”

Where had that come from? “I can talk to him if I want,” she said.

“I know,” Ven said hastily, “I’m just saying it’s probably best if you don’t. Terra’s going to get really anxious if you’re around the guy and – I’m just suggesting this – you should stay away from Riku.”

But it wasn’t a suggestion, but a demand cleverly disguised. Aqua bristled. Though she didn’t want to interact with Riku, it was the principle of things. Ven shouldn’t be telling her who she could and couldn’t speak to; seriously, she had practically raised him when he first came to the Land of Departure.

“ _. . . a cute little puppy that needs to be taken care of-”_

She squeezed her eyes shut and cut off the rest of Vanitas’s words. It wasn’t like that between them. Ven and Terra were her friends. She was their friend. Vanitas was wrong. It was that simple. He was wrong about everything, absolutely everything –

She frowned, a thought coming to her.

She glanced at Ven, who was humming to himself as he stared at the ceiling. There was still one uncertainty she had, one fact she couldn’t seem to get straight.

“Ven,” she said, “Vanitas was originally part of your heart, right?”

Ven went very still. “I’m not him, Aqua. He was made from my darkness, but that doesn’t mean we’re anything alike.”

No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Ven wasn’t supposed to say that! He was supposed to say that she was wrong, that Vanitas was just some creep obsessed with the three of them. Ven was supposed to support Terra’s side of the story, not Vanitas’s side.

“It’s true,” she murmured.

“Well, yeah.” Ven looked at her in surprise. “Didn’t you know?”

“Terra told me that was one of my fake memories.”

“He did?” Ven chewed his lip, clearly at a loss for words. “Uh, I guess he got confused. I mean, it confused me when Vanitas first told me that.”

Conversation stilled after that. Ven stared at his intertwined hands, stubbornly refusing to look at her. With the revelation that Terra had lied to her, Aqua found herself reluctant to speak too, as if by being silent, they could pretend that never happened.

Ven slid off the bed. “I’m going to check on Sora. Talk to you later?”

She nodded.

She didn’t move as he ran out the door. Now, with Ven gone, there was nothing to do but focus on what he had told her.

_It’s fine,_ she told herself. _Terra was just confused, or I misheard him. It’s just a mistake . . ._

She felt antsy, like someone was tickling her feet with feathers. She wrung her fingers together, shifting her weight from one side of her body to the next. Why was she getting so worked up about this? It was just a mistake; nothing more.

_Maybe I should just ask him about this_ . . . Though Terra did have a tendency to dabble in shady things, he usually came clean if she confronted him. Besides, maybe it really was an honest mistake; maybe Terra really did think Vanitas was just an obsessed stranger.

With that in mind, she walked up to Terra’s closed door, pausing when she heard Ven in the room.

Ven wasn’t yelling, nor was he speaking loud enough that she could tell what he was saying, but she heard enough in his tone to know he wasn’t happy. She winced. You never knew whether Terra would let a scolding roll off his shoulders or see it as a challenge. So, she opened the door and in removing that one barrier between the boys and herself, she was able to understand exactly what was being said.

“ . . . you said it yourself, Terra! When we lie, we need to tell each other so when can keep our stories straight-”

Terra slammed his hand over Ven’s mouth.

They stared at her; she stared at them. Like the chant of some devoted crowd, their last words droned in her ears.

“You . . .” Aqua stepped back.

As she began to retreat, Terra and Ven rushed forwards. Seeing them closing in on her made her panic, but her still-fresh memories of dealing with an enraged Vanitas made her body freeze rather than flee. Thus, they grabbed her easily, and pulled her into the room with them. Terra quickly closed the door.

“Aqua, it’s not what it sounds like!” Ven said.

“You’re lying to me,” she said softly.

The boys flinched. “We’re not lying,” Ven claimed, “just-”

She cut him off. “I heard you,” she said. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”

Terra squeezed her arm, checking himself a moment after. His other hand was tugging at his hair. “It’s not like that, Aqua. You weren’t ready to know. You could hardly talk about Vanitas without freaking out. It wasn’t fair to you, or Ven, if I told you the truth.”

Okay. She could live with that. They were just looking out for her as usual. And it wasn’t like she had really asked about that subject other than the first few times it came up. They were just protecting her.

“When _were_ you going to tell me?” she asked.

Terra worked his jaw, but said nothing for a second. “When you were ready,” he said evasively.

She stared at him. “You weren’t ever going to tell me the truth.”

Eyes fixed on the wall, Terra shrugged. “What’s the point?” he said. “It doesn’t change anything. He’s still the bad guy. It doesn’t matter where he came from.”

“It does to me!”

Terra sighed. “Aqua, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s not a big deal.”

She said, “I can decide for my –”

Vanitas’s words rang in her head: _“Just a cute little puppy that needs to be watched and taken care of and can never be trusted to think for itself.”_

Her eyes narrowed. A weak spark of anger heating her face, she asked, “What else are you keeping from me?”

“Whoa, Aqua! Calm down.” That was Ven, lifting one hand in surrender. The other was holding her upper arm. “Terra’s right: you’re starting to blow things out of proportion.”

“This was just an isolated incident,” Terra said. “We’re not-”

“I know about the pills, Terra.”

That shut him up. Terra’s eyes dilated like a cat who had realized that a starving dog was looming right behind it. He’d paled too, though his knuckles were turning red as he started to squeeze. Ven, meanwhile, cocked his head in confusion, innocently asking, “What pills?”

“How often have you been drugging me?” she demanded.

Terra swallowed. “When I need to.”

Just the fact that he gave a vague answer told her that it was more often than appropriate. To be honest, she had expected that, but it was still a blow regardless. She refused to look at him – at either of them – as she absorbed this.

“You drug her?” Ven said. “Why?” He was staring at Terra like he had never seen him before.

“You remember how it was when we first got back,” Terra cried. “She wouldn’t sleep! Ven, she was practically killing herself!”

“I sleep now,” she said.

Terra gashed his teeth together. “Yes, because of the drugs! Ven, I had to do it. I wasn’t going around drugging her just for fun; I had to!”

Ven shuffled his feet. “I guess that’s true-”

Aqua stared at the two in shock. “Why are you telling him this is okay?” she demanded of Ven. At Terra, she snapped, “Why are you asking _him_ for permission? You’re not drugging Ven; you’ve been drugging me! Why do _either_ of you think you deserve a say in this?”

“Aqua, we’re just trying to help you,” Terra said.

“And how is this helping?”

“Look, Aqua, I get it,” Terra said. “You think you’re fine, but you . . . you’re not. Sometimes, you need that outsider’s perspective, like me and Ven. We can see that you’re not okay.”

“That’s not the point!” she shouted. “The point is that you’re ignoring me in favour of _Ven’s_ consent.”

Ven squeezed his eyes shut, as if about to cry. “We’re just doing what’s best for you.”

His words were meant to comfort, but it was not that which Aqua found. Instead, Vanitas’s warning rung in her mind again: “ _Just a cute little puppy that needs to be watched and taken care of and can_ never _be trusted to think for itself”_

Terra stirred. “Aqua . . .”

She ripped away from him, from both of them. Something uncomfortably close to hate swirled deep inside her. She wasn’t their _pet_. She was a person! It didn’t matter what they thought was best; this was her life, and that meant she had the final decision.

For a moment, she was concerned on how Vanitas’s taunts seemed to poison her mind, but she shook it off. As distasteful as they were, it appeared that he had actually been _right_. Even considering their history, that was something she couldn’t ignore.

Terra tried to stop her from leaving, but she slapped his hand away. “I don’t want to talk to you guys,” she mumbled. “Not right now. Just leave me alone, please.”

* * *

Her slumber was fitful that night. She drifted in and out of consciousness, never quite able to stop thinking about her fight with Terra and Ven. Even in those brief stints where she did sleep, her dreams were filled with their blurry faces and misshapen bodies.

Until one dream.

Unlike the others, there was no ambiguity in this dream. She was fully alert, as if awake. She could feel her arms and legs; had complete control over them. And she knew _exactly_ where she was.

She took a deep breath, and then turned around to face Vanitas.

He was smirking triumphantly at her, arms crossed as he leaned against a building. His gold eyes moved up and down her body, like a general inspecting his returning soldier for injuries. Seemingly satisfied, he inclined his head, before a sudden frown disturbed his otherwise smug face.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

She did as he asked. Her reward was Vanitas touching her, tracing the long scars he had left. She whimpered, twisting away from him, but not yet brave enough to actually move her feet.

“They’re not going to go away,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she said, “I know.”

She felt him stiffen, but he didn’t snap at her.

“Enjoying being back with your masters,” he sneered. “Have they given you your leash yet, or does that come later?”

“Shut up,” she said.

Vanitas laughed. “Someone’s grumpy. What’s wrong, Aqua? Realizing I’m _right_?”

“Shut up!”

He only laughed harder, and grabbed her chin with bruising pressure. “It’s almost adorable how you keep insisting they love you. Though I guess you are right . . . if I had to go through that much trouble to get my hands on a trophy, I would make certain I loved it, too.”

He spun her around so that he faced her. “Tell me, which do you prefer: being their pet, or their trophy?”

“ _Shut up_!”

She was thrown out of the dream then, Vanitas’s laughter ricocheting off the sides of her skull. She sat up immediately, sweat lining her brow, burying her head in her arms to calm herself.

And although she was completely, truly awake, she still heard Vanitas’s voice in the back of her mind.

_They don’t love you, Aqua. Not the way you love them. Not as a friend._


	36. Chapter 36

“Still here?” Yen Sid asked.

Master Eraqus did not respond. He was seated on an old wooden chair by the window, staring mindlessly into space. Yen Sid waited for a full minute, seeing if Eraqus would acknowledge him.

He did not.

Yen Sid said, “I have some insight into Terra’s predicament.”

That earned a twitch. Eraqus’s hand gripped the windowsill hard, and Yen Sid idly wondered if it would crack. Nowadays, mentions of his apprentices were about the only things that would trigger a response from Eraqus.

“The readings from his heart are very irregular,” Yen Sid said. He dropped a folder into Eraqus’s lap. “It . . . it is almost as if it is not the only one there.”

“Two hearts?” Eraqus said weakly.

“If Terra is indeed harbouring a second heart within his own, it would explain the irregularities in his behaviour.” Yen Sid fought back a frown upon seeing Eraqus’s eyes light up with hope. Surely, for all of them, it would be easier if Terra’s violent manner could be attributed to some outside force. However . . .

“I do not think that is the case,” Yen Sid said. “The situation is similar, but more complicated than that.”

“Than what is the matter with him,” Eraqus asked.

Yen Sid shook his head. “That, I’m afraid I still have to figure out.”

More could have been said, but they were interrupted by a bone-chilling sound.

* * *

He awoke to a scream.

Within seconds, Terra was charging through the halls, shouting Aqua’s name. Ven’s door was already open, although the boy wasn’t in the room itself. Terra ripped the door to Aqua’s room open, stopping short at the sight of Ven over top of her. Okay, good, looked like Ven had already frightened the threat away.

Aqua was lying on her stomach, shaking, making the knife embedded in her back quiver. It had impaled her shoulder blade, and as he watched, a thick drop of blood dripped down her shoulder. There wasn’t a lot of blood, so this wound had to be extremely fresh. Where the perpetrator was, however, he had no idea.

“Ven, Aqua, what happened?” he demanded.

Aqua didn’t answer. Ven stayed silent.

And then he grabbed the knife’s handle, pulled it out, and stabbed her again.

Terra’s mind went blank.

He threw himself at the other boy, catching him at the waist and tackling him into the other wall. His own roar mixed in with Aqua’s screams, which were drowned out further still by the crack of his fists against her assailant’s face. Somewhere along the way, his foe started to cry out, too, but Terra didn’t care. He _deserved_ to suffer. Anyone who hurt her deserved that!

Arms looped underneath his armpits, hauling him back. But no, that wasn’t acceptable. Aqua had been hurt! He launched forwards, tearing himself out of Eraqus’s grasp, stepping on his fallen opponent as he did so, and whipped around with a vicious snarl. He threw Eraqus right into the wall, then turned around so he could continue to wrestle with his opponent.

He was on the ground, trying to crawl away. Terra merely grabbed him by the front of his shirt, lifting him high into the air. Just then, a hot whip-like sensation broke over his back, making him yelp. His fingers loosened, allowing Aqua’s attacker to squirm free. Before Terra could go after him and drag him out of the corner, a Stopaga spell grabbed him. It held him painfully tight, like a million needles were pricking into his flesh, drawing blood when he tried to move.

Like that would stop him. He knew exactly who had cast this spell. His mind flashed between Yen Sid’s spell and Eraqus’s attempts to pull him back; they were all against him. Fine! He didn’t care; they wanted to interfere with his protecting his friends, then they would reap the consequences. _No one_ would-

Mickey’s keyblade slammed against his head.

He saw stars. Too dazed to move, he remained still as Eraqus ran past him and knelt beside Aqua’s attacker. Mickey had his keyblade drawn, standing on Aqua’s bed as he studied Terra. Yen Sid watched him, too, robe rustling as if caught in a breeze. With a groan, Terra sat up, rubbing his forehead.

Next to him, Eraqus was shouting, “Ventus, are you awake?”

Ven? What about Ven? Terra rolled over, instinctively reaching for his friend . . . only for Mickey to block his way. Eraqus, too, reacted negatively, pulling Ven to him and curling around him the way a dragon curled around her young.

“Ven . . .?” Terra stood up on his knees, staring. The blond apprentice’s entire face was bloody, so that it was impossible to tell what colour his skin was underneath. It didn’t look like he had a nose anymore, or if he did, it was flat. He hung limply in Eraqus’s grip, eyelids fluttering, but failing to open as Eraqus shook him. And when Eraqus wiped some of the blood away from his eyes, he only exposed bruising flesh.

“Terra, what did you do?” Eraqus demanded.

He was at a loss for words. What _had_ happened? Ven, he had been here with Aqua, and Ven had –

His heart skipped a beat.

 _Now_ he remembered. And as he remembered and watched the way Ven feebly moved, he found it hard to feel guilt.

“He had a knife,” Terra said coldly. “He was using it to hurt Aqua.”

That got a reaction. Mickey let out an exclamation of surprise; Yen Sid’s mouth fell open in one of the few unrestrained expressions he had ever displayed; and Eraqus clutched Ven tighter to him, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s true!” Terra turned his head slightly, catching glimpse of the knife discarded on the edge of the bed. It was still bloody. “I came in here because I heard her screaming, and I saw him stab her!”

Ven moaned something, and Eraqus hurried to fret over him. His hands were dyed green with his Curaga spell, a glow which quickly enveloped Ven’s head as well. Though it would have stemmed the blood flow, it did nothing about the blood itself, leaving his face a shiny red.

Eraqus said, “Ventus, can you hear me?”

Ven mumbled, “I didn’t . . . I didn’t hurt her . . .”

“You had a knife!” Terra repeated. “You stabbed her with a _knife_!”

“No, no!” Ven shrunk back, like he was trying to bury himself in Eraqus’s clothes.

“Ventus,” Eraqus said, “what do you say happened here?”

“I don’t know!” Ven wailed. “I fell asleep, and then when I woke up, Terra was beating me up!”

“Liar!” Terra lunged forwards, stopped short by Mickey’s keyblade. “How’d you get in here, then?”

“I don’t know,” Ven said, “I shouldn’t be here; I should be in my room . . .”

Ven tried to shield his face with his hands, and that allowed Terra to catch sight of the ropes still looped around his wrists. They looked like they had been cut.

“Master, could he have been sleepwalking?” Mickey asked.

“It is a possibility,” Yen Sid said slowly.

Terra gaped. “You’re kidding, right? People don’t stab others while they’re sleepwalking!”

“Such incidences have occurred before,” Yen Sid said. “If I do recall, young Ventus has had recurring problems with sleepwalking.”

“That is correct,” Eraqus said, still cradling the boy.

“So, what do you plan to do about it?” Terra demanded. “It’s bad enough Vanitas is hunting us, I can’t deal with having to protect Aqua from Ven, too-”

He stopped short. Aqua had just been ambushed, stabbed by her best friend, and now, he realized, she had disappeared as well. The knife was still there, lying innocently on the stained sheets, but she was gone.

“Aqua? Aqua!” His voice rang through the tower, drawing no answer.

And when he and the rest of them finally scoured the world, she was nowhere to be found.

* * *

At first, she was too stunned to fight back. The shock of being stabbed was just as bad as the shock of having the knife yanked out, and adding that to the shock of being pulled into the darkness nearly rendered her catatonic. When her sense did return to her, however, boy, did it come back.

“Get off of me!”

Magic erupted from her, making her skin hot. To the one attempting to kidnap her though, she was positively searing. His hands released her, choosing instead to flail in the air in an attempt to cool down. She wasted no time driving her keyblade into his gut.

A second later, he had his own keyblade out, and they locked blades. He was strong, stronger than she had expected, but she was older, experienced. She turned her body a bit at the waist, changing the angle, giving her the advantage so that his keyblade was being forced back towards his chest.

But then he fought back, a little too wildly with a little too much force, and the tear in her shoulder made itself known. Her arm buckled, making her lose what ground she had gained. Before he could press his advantage, she pulled away, rubbing her injured shoulder.

The light of her Cura spell lit up Riku’s face, highlighting the determined gleam in his remaining eye.

“Traitor!” she hissed.

He laughed bitterly. “Get over yourself. In case you don’t remember, you did this to me!” He pointed at his missing eye.”

“Don’t blame me for Vanitas’s actions!” she snapped.

“But are you to blame, aren’t you?” Riku chuckled lowly. “All this of this, this entire mess, he’s doing it for you, isn’t he? Everything’s about you!”

She winced. “I didn’t tell him to do any of this!”

“I don’t care!” Riku bellowed. “My friends are in danger because of _you_. I . . . a lot of people would be better off if you just went along with him.”

She shook her head. “You don’t get it, Riku.”

“I understand enough.” Riku stepped backwards, raising his arms like a performer greeting his audience.

“You-!”

“Look around, Aqua.”

She took the bait without meaning to. And what she saw was _darkness_. It was everywhere: in the sky, under her feet. The entire world was made of darkness. She could feel herself breathing it in, its tendrils reaching down into her lungs . . .

_No, don’t panic –_

But she was. Her breaths had become short and shallow, not enough to supply her cell’s demands for oxygen. With the resulting light-headedness came dizziness, and with that came weakness. She tried to move back, but her foot caught, making her stumble. Riku didn’t even bother to do anything, just watched her.

It was so dark. She pleaded with her keyblade, coaxing a ball of light out of it. It was so small in the expanse of darkness, so insignificant. If a breeze went through his realm, it would blow out.

“No, no, no . . .” She was muttering to herself, trying to grab hold of her magical orb. All it did was burn her hands, although she could barely feel the pain.

Riku saw what she was doing though. His eyes widened with fear, and he ran forwards, shouting at her to stop. He grabbed her arms, tried to pull her towards the part of the darkness that would take them back to Silent Hill –

She let the orb in her hands explode.

As Riku shielded his face, she fled. She ran and ran, never stopping, trying desperately to escape the gloom that surrounded her. Riku took up the chase, and that only inspired her to move faster, make her strides longer. So, she ran towards the inky horizon, relentless as a hound on the hunt. She couldn’t say where Riku was behind her, or even if he still was.

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the darkness.

She stepped funny, sending herself toppling to the ground. But rather than what she had expected – Riku catching her – she fell out of the _darkness_. She had known she had been running into a darker section of the realm, but it had never occurred to her it had been a portal. Either way, she was out of there and in a new place, a forest to be exact.

Shivering, she stood and rubbed her arms. Her Wayfinder, so warm it almost burned, glowed for a few more seconds before fading. She glanced at it, unsure whether her escape from the dark realm was due to the nature of the place itself, or this trinket.

The first thing she did was run, wary of Riku coming after her. No matter where she went, the forest still looked the same: broad leafs made the gaps between the tree blotchy, and created a patchwork pattern of light on the forest floor. On those leaves, a few drops of water reflected the sun’s rays. If they and the musty scent were anything to go by, there had been a rainstorm not very long ago. Indeed, traces of it could be found in the wet trails slithering down the bark, or the knot of grey clouds that hadn’t quite dispersed.

Her shoe broke through a puddle as she ran. To her knowledge, it was afternoon; that’s what the heat outside the shade told her. She had plenty of time before night came. Plenty of time to find shelter.

“Where are you going, Aqua?”

She froze. Not even ten minutes in and already the game was over.

Masked, Vanitas was sitting on a nearby branch, back against the trunk. Though the smooth helmet hid his golden gaze, she could picture his eyes perfectly, and knew they were fixated on her. She didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe, like a mouse after it had sensed an owl flying ahead. Of course, she had it worse than the mouse, because at least the mouse would be put out of its misery soon enough. If Vanitas caught her though, she wouldn’t die for a very, very long time.

“I thought you were at Yen Sid’s,” he said casually.

Well . . . it wasn’t like they had been keeping it a secret. Still, it unnerved her that Vanitas had known where she was this entire time. He had probably been lurking just outside the world’s boundaries, just hoping she would step outside. She wouldn’t put it past him.

“I . . . went for a walk,” she said pathetically.

“A walk?” He rolled those two words around his tongue, like a child tasting a sweet for the first time. “Here? All alone? Do you normally go for walks on other worlds?”

Other worlds? Her eyes widened. She looked around, the scenery taking on a new meaning. She was on a different _world_? Again, a conclusion that should have been obvious to her, but she’d been hoping for a small break.

“I-I . . .”

“Why’d you leave, Aqua?”

“I didn’t!” she snapped. “You sent Riku to kidnap me.”

Vanitas didn’t answer immediately, too busy examining his glove. “That so?” he said, sounding terribly uninterested.

“Yes! You gouged out his eye, sent him to us so that he could get near me, and then he kidnapped me after –”

“That’s enough.”

She shut her mouth, and immediately hated herself for it.

With a snap of his fingers, he vanished. At her back though, she felt the temperature drop. A beat passed, and then she swallowed dryly as Vanitas traced the stab wound that Ven had made, her skin aching dully in his fingers’ wake.

“What happened, Aqua?”

“I . . .” Mentally, she groped for a convincing lie. “ . . . I fell.”

“You fell,” he repeated dryly.

“Down the stairs?”

He laughed. “Aqua, you do realize that’s like the most common lie people use when they’re being abused?”

“They’re not-”

He dug his fingers into the wound, making her gasp in pain.

Once again, he said, “What happened, Aqua?”

She shut her eyes, and her mouth. Apparently, he didn’t need her to confirm his suspicions though.

“This looks like a blade’s work,” he remarked, still tracing the wound. However, it was not pain that followed in his wake, but relief as he healed it. “But Riku wouldn’t have done it, and everyone on that world is your friend . . . aren’t they?”

No, she wasn’t going to let him get to her, not this time . . .

Vanitas backed away. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

She whirled around. “Wh-what?”

His back to her as he continued to walk, he shrugged. “We didn’t separate on good terms. I think we need some time apart.”

She was hit with an urge to beg him to take her with him. She didn’t trust Vanitas, wouldn’t believe that he would be this merciful. If he was letting her go now, it was because he had something in store. It was because, somehow, this fit into his plans.

Hadn’t she been through enough?

“Why are you leaving?” she demanded. “Where are you going?”

He paused. Turned his head halfway so she could see the side of his grin. “Why? You want to come along?”

“No!”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes as if he didn’t believe. “Then don’t worry about it. But just in case you change your mind . . . You ever need me, just call for me.”

 _Keep dreaming_. She didn’t dare say that out loud.

Just as he promised, he left afterwards. She was left standing there for ten minutes, mouth hanging open as she registered his change in affairs. Vanitas let her go? She pinched herself – _twice_ – to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. And when her nerves complained about what she was doing to them, she laughed and laughed.

She was _free_.


	37. Chapter 37

“Okay, just keep holding it there. Don’t worry; the bleeding should stop soon.”

Ven winced as Sora continued to dab at his face with a wet cloth, methodically clearing the blood away. Normally, Eraqus would have taken that role, only he was busy searching for Aqua, and cleaning up the mess from Terra’s rampage probably wasn’t best for the Master’s mental health. That left Sora – who claimed he had lots of experience from the aftermath of his and Riku’s swordfights – as Ven’s nurse.

“Is it that bad?” Ven asked.

“You’re really bruised,” Sora said, “but I think you’ll be okay. Head wounds just bleed a lot.”

He grunted, shifting in his seat. The movement caused the wad of tissue he was holding to move, and a trickle of blood escaped from between his nostrils. With an annoyed sound, Sora pressed on the wad.

“You have to keep it there, Ven,” he said. “If you keep moving it, your nose will keep bleeding.”

“Sorry.”

With a sigh, he continued to sit there while Sora cleaned him up, switching the wad on his nose when Sora gave him a fresh one. He could taste the blood in the back of his throat: salty and bitter. He would be smelling it for days.

The door swung open. Mickey walked in, face forlorn. He rubbed the back of his head, kicking the ground awkwardly as he said, “Gosh Ven, that looks painful.”

“It doesn’t hurt as much as you think,” Ven said. Indeed, his face felt like one giant, throbbing bruise, but that was all. “So, what’s going on?”

“We can’t find Aqua,” Mickey said. “Terra’s gone off-world to look for her. He says he has some way of tracking her.”

“The Wayfinder,” Ven said. “Man, we really owe Naminé.”

They basked in silence for a few minutes, before Sora broke it, asking about Ven’s nose. Ven removed the wad, found his nosebleed had ended, and happily tossed the blood-soaked gob into the trash. He rolled his shoulder, checking that Terra hadn’t wrecked those either, and was greeted by a loud, but not painful, pop.

“Did Terra say where he was going?” Ven asked.

“The Dwarf Woodlands,” Mickey said. “Are ya going after him?”

“Yep.”

Mickey exchanged a glance with Sora. “Uh, I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but Terra said he didn’t want you to come.”

Ven frowned. “I don’t really care about what Terra wants right now.”

Neither looked pleased, but they didn’t challenge him. “Do you want us to go with you?” Sora asked instead.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Terra won’t want you there.”

Innocently, Sora said, “I thought you didn’t care about what Terra wants.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “There’s a difference between not caring and being stupid. But thanks, anyways.”

He sighed, staring at the distant wall. “It’s been so long since it was just the three of us . . . maybe that’s why everything keeps getting worse. Once it’s us again, maybe we can start getting somewhere.”

“I sure hope you’re right,” Mickey said.

Ven smiled sadly. “Me, too.”

* * *

“Aqua!”

Terra’s only answer was the chirps of crickets. Sighing, he trudged onwards, hoping to find some trace of his wayward friend. Really, what was she thinking, running off like this? He got that she had been spooked – he himself had been pretty spooked by Ven’s sudden betrayal – but why in the worlds had she thought _this_ would be a good idea? Why didn’t she just giftwrap herself and knock on Vanitas’s door?

He glanced down at the Wayfinder. At least he had this much. If it were correct, then Vanitas had yet to get his hands on her. Hopefully, she was doing as good a job hiding from him as she was from Terra.

“Aqua!”

His shout sent a cloud of birds into the sky, but did nothing when it came to actually locating his target. The forests in the Dwarf Woodlands were huge; who knew how long it would take to find her?

_If only there were five of me_ , he thought. Then maybe he’d have some luck. As it was though, he would search the forest until sunset. At that time, he knew Aqua would have moved indoors or abandoned the world.

“Aqua, come on, where are you?”

“Well, she isn’t here, that’s for sure.”

A roar on his lips, he whirled around, summoning Earthshaker in one smooth move. Just as he had suspected, Vanitas was there, hardly a dozen strides away.

“Vanitas,” he growled.

“And I was worried you may have forgotten me,” Vanitas sneered, unmasked. “Glad to know I’m so memorable.”

“Where’s Aqua? What did you do to her?”

Vanitas held his hands up. “Me? I didn’t do anything.”

“What do you want?” he demanded.

Vanitas said, “Well, there seems to be some unresolved issues between us, so I figured why don’t we settle things? Once and for all.”

With that, Vanitas summoned his keyblade.

For the first time in his life, Terra was hesitant to attack. The last time he had fought Vanitas, he had won. He knew that, Vanitas knew that . . . so why would Vanitas be badgering him for a fight now? Had the guy turned suicidal or something?

He scanned the area, finding no signs of a trap. Still, he didn’t trust Vanitas one bit. But if he refused to fight, Vanitas would probably go after Aqua or something, and that was unacceptable.

“Once and for all,” he said coldly.

They charged.

It was just like old times, the way their keyblades grated against each other. Terra flashed back to a desperate fight in a glass station, the climax of his foray to Silent Hill. Just as he did then, he moved past Vanitas, and pivoted around on his heels, angling his keyblade for a block. That much, at least, went according to memory.

It appeared Vanitas remembered this too, for there was little force in that swing. No, it was more of a distraction than anything else as he weaved around Terra, darkness converting the ground into one giant slide. A stronger attack – born of darkness, not keyblade – collided with his back. Heat rushed to the spot, then spread outwards as his anger began to fester.

He sent a shockwave through the air, sharp-tipped, carving great grooves into the tree. But Vanitas merely teleported out of the way, appearing even closer to Terra with his arms crossed behind his head. He could picture the younger boy’s tongue sticking out at him, and he pictured severing that as he swung downwards, a stroke that again was dodged.

Vanitas appeared nearby, but Terra didn’t attack, too busy being suspicious. He didn’t like this. This whole situation reeked of a setup. For what though? He couldn’t answer that.

“Something wrong, Terra?” Vanitas said.

Terra weighed his options, then opted to dismiss his keyblade. “You know what: I’m not going to fight you.”

A pause was the only indication that this had not been part of Vanitas’s plan. “No?”

“No,” he said. A satisfied smirk lit up his face. “I’m not.”

Vanitas matched his expression. “Whatever made you think you have a choice?”

With that, Vanitas lunged, keyblade pointed at Terra’s heart. But just because he had dismissed his keyblade didn’t mean he wasn’t ready. The darkness came to him, forming a smooth shield that bent like rubber under the force of Vanitas’s thrust, only to spring back to its proper place afterwards. Vanitas leapt back, keyblade held over his head in his ‘ready’ position.

Terra didn’t take the bait. He stepped back, creating a portal with a flick of his hand. He stood halfway in and halfway out, clearly signalling his intention to interfere with Vanitas’s plans.

Vanitas paused, hunched over like a prowling predator. “I thought you’d be all over this opportunity,” he said.

Terra snorted. “Whatever.”

He was almost inside the portal, so close to leaving, when Vanitas casually remarked, “I mean, you must be furious over what happened between me and Aqua.”

That stopped him. Foot hovering mid-step, he said, “I think you overestimate yourself. You haven’t done anything she can’t recover from.”

Vanitas didn’t answer right away, but slowly reached back and crossed his arms behind his head. And then he said something that Terra was in no way prepared to hear:

“I wasn’t expecting her to a be a virgin, y’know. But hey, it worked out better for me, so I’m not complaining.”

What. Vanitas . . . he had . . . No, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have . . . Aqua wouldn’t let him . . .

But he flashed back to how broken she was. He could hear her sobs in his mind, feel her trembling body against his.

“You ever tasted her, Terra?” Vanitas sneered. “How does it feel to know that I was there first? It must be _maddening_ to think that you’re second-best.”

No, no . . . he had to control himself . . . but that was easier said than done when his chest was constricting and making it hard to breathe. Black splotches were staining his vision, which was rapidly growing narrower the more he dwelled on Vanitas’s words.

Vanitas stepped closer, grinning like a fox. “If you want,” he said quietly, as if he was telling Terra some great secret, “I can tell you what it’s like to be inside her.”

His swing wasn’t just strong enough to kill Vanitas; it would have decapitated him, cracked his skull open in a spray of gristle against a tree three yards away. The force would have blown his body towards that same tree too, snapped a few bones just in case Vanitas could somehow reattach his head.

It was a shame that Terra missed.

“ _You bastard_!” He missed again, but he didn’t miss the tree. The trunk exploded in a shower of splinters and sap; he could feel it sticking to his skin. And Vanitas . . . he was just _laughing_. Standing back away from him, arms crossed behind his head, looking like _Ven_. His laugh even sounded like the youngest apprentice.

“If you want her that badly, Terra, I might be willing to share,” Vanitas said.

“NO!” he bellowed. “You won’t touch her again!”

Their keyblades slammed together, sending a shockwave through the area. Leaves rose up all around them, spinning in a wild vortex as if caught in the midst of a twister. He brought his weight down, trying to crush Vanitas like a bug, but Vanitas swiftly teleported and before Terra knew it, he was being attacked from behind.

He lashed out not with his keyblade (that would be too slow), but with a backhand. It cracked against Vanitas’s face, making a similar sound to the one that Ven’s face had made when Terra had punched him. And why stop there? He leapt at Vanitas like a cat, darkness-constructed claws extended.

For all his bravado, Vanitas still lacked the strength to take the full brunt of a Terra-styled tackle. They fell to the ground, Terra positioning his elbow to land on Vanitas’s throat.

It was so easy to posture up on Vanitas from there, so easy to slam his fists again and again into the other boy’s face. So ensnared by his bloodlust was he, that Terra didn’t even notice that he was hitting a barrier instead of flesh until the tenth punch. That only made him angry. He roared, bring both fists high above his head as he prepared to break the barrier with nothing but brute strength.

But Vanitas was faster. He dropped the barrier, striking upwards with a finger-thrust that dug deep into Terra’s trachea. It wasn’t enough to stop Terra, but it was certainly enough to shift his angle, so that he hit Vanitas’s shoulder instead. Gagging, still recovering, Terra put one hand on either side of Vanitas’s head, struggling to draw some air into his lungs.

And Vanitas bit him.

He swore loudly, rearing back, with Vanitas still attached to him like a parasite. He had locked his teeth in right where Terra’s neck connected with his shoulder. Light, the twerp had some sharp fangs! While Terra tried to pry him off, Vanitas positioned himself, placing his feet on Terra’s chest. Right when it had occurred to Terra to use a spell to _burn_ Vanitas off, he sprung away, pushing himself off with his legs. Before Terra’s disbelieving eyes, Vanitas rolled promptly to his feet, panting with what may have been excitement or exertion.

“It’s hard to believe Aqua would trust a failure like you,” Vanitas said. “Look at you: you can’t even stop a little boy.”

Clutching the spot where Vanitas’s teeth had been, Terra glared at the other boy. He had never wished he had laser eyes as strongly as this moment.

“You can’t protect her,” Vanitas spat. “Not from me, not from Ven; you can’t even protect her from yourself. She came to me with these huge handprints on her neck; where the hell were you during that?”

“Shut up,” he hissed.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Vanitas sauntered closer. “Why? Were you not there because she was _fleeing_ from you? She told me! She confessed that she’s scared of you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Terra said.

Vanitas sniffed. “You think I’m no good for her because she’s scared of me . . . but that doesn’t that apply for you and her, too?”

“Shut up.” He could feel his darkness simmering below the surface, just waiting to burst out of his heart.

“Face it, Terra. You’re not her friend. She doesn’t even _like_ you.”

“SHUT UP!”

His arms flung out automatically, caught in the current of his escaping darkness. He roared, the sound carrying through the forest and scaring birds from their roost. Thick, inky tendrils curled around his arms, giving off a dense mist that highlighted how his eyes had started to glow. Earthshaker appeared in his hands, but it wasn’t right. It was just as dark as him, the colours having changed.

His eyes locked on his prey, and he leapt, ready to kill –

Vanitas took a few steps back, aimed his keyblade, and shouted, “ _Holy_!”

It was the one spell Terra had never thought him capable of using, and consequently, he was not at all prepared. The light hit him straight-on, right when his darkness was at his peak and . . . Kingdom Hearts, _nothing_ had ever hurt this much before.

He screamed, landing in a crumpled heap at Vanitas’s feet. His dark claws dug into his own flesh as he tried to rip the light off his skin. He was burning, being baked alive by the light that clung to him, and when he opened his mouth to scream again, blood-specked foam built up at the corners of his mouth.

Vanitas watched, his face cold.

Eventually, the spell wore off, and Terra was left a whimpering hulk. His darkness had since retreated, burying itself deep within his heart. Without that source of power, he was left with hardly anything; he could barely turn his head to look at Vanitas.

Speaking of the devil, Vanitas had dropped to one knee, peering almost curiously into Terra’s face. Terra snarled, tasting blood in the back of his throat.

Quietly, Vanitas said, “I win.”

He stomped on Terra’s chest, holding him, denying his weak effort to escape. Expression unreadable, Vanitas cocked his head as he stared downwards, meeting Terra’s increasingly desperate stare with his own.

Vanitas raised his keyblade.

“You . . .” Terra had a hand clamped around Vanitas’s ankle, but was too weak to do anything else.

Vanitas smiled.

And then he sunk his keyblade deep into Terra’s chest.

* * *

It was later than she liked. She still had an hour or so before sunset, but still . . . She could feel the shadows growing thicker around her, feel the drop in temperature. With a shiver, Aqua hugged herself and continued to walk.

Five minutes. Five more minutes and then she’d take her chances in space. She was still wary of Vanitas; she expected that he was up in the sky waiting for her, ready to swoop in and snatch her up the way an eagle would a mouse. Vanitas said he wanted some time apart, but they probably had different definitions of that. His version probably involved locking her up in a cell somewhere.

Something snapped. Rainfell appeared in a plume of bright sparkles. She shrank away from what she thought to be the direction of the sound. If it was Vanitas . . .

She gasped at the glowing yellow eyes, but it was only Terra. He was rubbing his head, stumbling forwards as if he was drunk.

She had never been so glad to see him before.

“Terra!” She ran forward, catching him before he actually fell over. He started slightly at the contact, frowning as he suddenly starting playing with her fingers.

His touch was like ice, it was so cold. She almost pulled away. Terra must have read her mind though, because his arm wound around her back, keeping her close. He was staring at her face now, trying to meet her eyes.

She didn’t give him that, but she did hug him. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she murmured.

Terra was like a rock. He didn’t move.

She frowned, sensing that something wasn’t right. “Terra?”

As if responding to her voice, something slithered beneath Terra’s skin. It was black, thin, like veins or a vine. A second after it had appeared it was gone again, but it was enough.

She tried to tear herself out of his arms, but he was too strong. His grip only grew tighter, until he was nearly crushing her ribs between his biceps. And all the while, he didn’t stop staring at her with that curious, almost innocent stare.

She looked up at him. “Terra?”

He smiled.

His claws dug into her flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, Vanitas was lying about some of the things he claimed to Terra.


	38. Chapter 38

Panting, Ven ran through the woods. Terra, Aqua . . . he hadn’t found a trace of either of them so far. All he found were trees and more trees. Oh, and the occasional squirrel.

He vaulted over a log, landing in a crouch. The moss-covered earth was soft under his shoes, so that he had to be careful they didn’t stick in the mud. For the most part, he was okay, moving swiftly enough that the mud didn’t have time to attach. However, there were a few clumps sticking to the edges.

He breathed out, turning his eyes to the waning sun. Not quite sunset, but getting close. He only had until then; he didn’t expect Aqua to hang around for night, and Terra would surely follow her. Once that happened, well, then he had no idea how to find them.

Losing hope by the second, he trudged onwards. Of all times to run off . . . why now? Yes, he knew that whatever had happened with the knife had seriously freaked Aqua out, but he thought she knew better than that. If anything, he would have thought that Aqua would run to Terra for comfort. Running away like this, it didn’t suit the picture he had of her.

That left two options: either Aqua had been damaged enough by her captivity that he no longer knew her – something he deemed unlikely – or this disappearance wasn’t entirely voluntary.

It was that theory that he clung to as he pushed through the tangled mess of branches and leaves. He only wished he had some actual details; he couldn’t think of why Vanitas would drop her off here. Unless Vanitas wasn’t involved and it was someone else . . .

He knocked his forehead against a tree. He was going to drive himself crazy.

It was there, slumped over against the tree, where he felt it: a tugging in his breast. Confused, Ven rubbed the spot, shuddering as a sense of being watched swept over him. Actually, that wasn’t accurate; he didn’t feel like he was being watched so much as he was doing the watching. He looked around, but nothing was amiss. That did not satisfy the tug, however. Instead, it only got stronger.

It was then he noticed that his Wayfinder was glowing.

He clutched it tight in his fist, clinging onto the good omen it offered. With no further doubts, he followed the tug, letting it blindly guide him through the forest.

And boy, was he glad he did.

“Terra!”

Terra was lying on the ground. The ground around him was disturbed, with the dirt streaked as if there had been an explosion. But Ven knew it wasn’t just that; he could see the fight that had happened here. After all, there was nothing in nature that could so cleanly cut a group of trees in half.

“Terra, are you okay?” Kneeling, he shook the larger apprentice, scanning over him for injuries. As far as he could tell, Terra appeared unharmed. Unconscious, yes, but safe.

Even with Ven’s prodding, Terra did not wake right away. It was maybe five minutes or so later when he finally started to moan. His eyes were slow to open and once they did, blinked seldom, as if he was too tired to close them again. His hazy blue eyes, although locked on Ven, took a while to obtain that note of recognition.

“Vanitas . . .” Terra mumbled.

Ven’s lips thinned. “No, it’s me: Ven.”

“No, Vanitas . . . he’s here.” Terra was trying to stand now. “We were fighting.”

“You were fighting Vanitas?” Ven looked around again, half-expecting to see the masked boy leaning against a tree. “Are you sure? I don’t see him here.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Terra said. “He used a Holy spell and-”

“Whoa, wait! A Holy spell? As in a _light_ spell.”

“Yeah, that one.” Terra’s voice changed slightly as he registered the implications of his words.

Ven shook his head. “Terra, Vanitas has a heart of pure darkness. He can’t use light spells. Maybe it was someone pretending to be him.”

“I’m telling you Ven, it was him!” Terra said. “I don’t know how he used a light spell, but he did.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe it was him.” Ven bit his lip. If it had been Vanitas . . . then he didn’t know what to do. “Have you found Aqua?”

“No,” Terra said, “she’s probably gone . . . no, she’s still here.”

“Really? But it’s getting pretty late.”

“She’s still here,” Terra said firmly. “Come on, we have to go find her.”

Terra rolled over onto his stomach and climbed onto his hands and knees, but he was unable to rise. It took Ven’s shoulder under his armpit to lift him and even then, the older apprentice swayed dangerously. He took one wobbly step forwards, then lurched, only staying upright because he fell against a tree. Holding onto it for dear life, he moaned and rubbed his chest, face scrunched up with pain.

“Terra, are you alright?”

Terra grated out. “Light, I don’t think I have any bones in my body.”

Ven grabbed his arm, steadying Terra as he moved away from the tree. However, Terra, being a much bulkier, much bigger boy, proved too much for Ven to carry. Both of them toppled forwards, this time with Ven thankfully landing on top.

“Sorry!” Ven squeaked, leaping off Terra’s back.

“It’s fine,” Terra said. As he lifted himself off the ground, his cheeks went red from the effort. “I’ve never felt this weak before.”

“Take it slow,” Ven said.

“Can’t,” Terra said shortly. “We need to get to Aqua.”

He ended up taking it slow. It was obvious that Terra was very, very displeased over that, but at the same time, it was obvious his body was failing him. He walked like a cripple, using Earthshaker as a crutch. The keyblade itself seemed a little odd to Ven; the colours appeared brighter than usual.

Yet they continued to march onwards. It was maybe an hour away from night now, and Aqua apparently had yet to desert the world. Not at all a good sign.

Jaw clenched, Terra led, eyes fixed straight ahead. It was akin to the focus of a hawk diving at its prey. Terra barely even acknowledged Ven when he spoke, usually only responding in grunts or brisk moves of his head. That might not be because Terra was ignoring him though, but because he was too weary to say more.

Finally they heard it: sobbing.

It didn’t even take Terra half a second to lurch towards the noise. The expression on his face was rawer than any Ven had ever seen on him: it spoke of terror and dread, mixed with the tiniest hint of relief. Although they had yet to see the source of the cries, both of them knew with a scary certainty that it was Aqua they were hearing.

“Aqua?” he gasped. “Aqua!”

They pushed through the last barrier blocking their path. The branches folded outwards, like a show curtain slowly opening, and center stage was their desperately-sought quarry. Aqua was curled up at the base of a tree, sobbing into her arms. There was no blood that he could see, but her clothes were rumpled in a way that spoke of mishandling.

But she was safe. Vanitas didn’t have her.

“Aqua!” Both of them shouted that at the same time. Overjoyed, they ran towards her, catching a glimpse of her tear-streaked face as she glanced up-

“NO! STAY AWAY!”

Aqua’s shriek penetrated through to his legs, stopping Ven cold. Terra, however, had always been a man of action. He only moved faster, though his weakness made him too slow to catch Aqua before she bolted.

She didn’t run far, just far enough that there was a healthy distance between them. She was visibly shaking as her eyes darted from Terra to Ven and back again. She didn’t appear hurt, but the way she twitched and moved, it was like a worm wriggling on a hook.

“Aqua?”

She backed away from them, whimpering. Her gaze was fixed on a point on the ground by her feet, angling her head downwards. But he could still see the fear etched in the lines of her skin. With a jolt, Ven realized the truth: she was scared. Of _them_. He thought at first it was because of what had happened with the knife, but she was reacting negatively to Terra, too. What was going on?

Terra had stopped moving, his arm still reaching out as he came upon the same fact Ven had just digested. Slowly, his arm fell back to his side. He took a careful step forwards, hunching over in what seemed to be an attempt to appear smaller.

It was still too much. She whined deep in her throat, backpedalling rapidly.

“Aqua, it’s okay,” Terra said quietly. “It’s just us.”

Even that failed to soothe her, and when Terra made a sudden move to grab her, she yelped and slapped his hand away.

“Aqua, are you hurt?” Ven asked.

She didn’t address his query but glanced at him, flinching away. Ven paused, noticing for the first time that he had been circling, flanking her. He chewed his bottom lip, looking to Terra for reassurance. However, if the steely look in his eyes was anything to go by, they really were like two predators creeping up on their prey.

“Look, Aqua, it’s just us.” Terra held his hands up, displaying his lack of weaponry. “Vanitas isn’t here. It’s safe. You’re safe. We just want to take you home, alright?”

Ven waited with bated breath as Terra approached her. But once again, Aqua backed away, keeping the same distance.

“Aqua, stop fooling around!” Terra barked. His face was flushed. “We have to get out of here before Vanitas arrives.”

“N-no.” The response was weak, but unmistakable.

“No?” Ven repeated. “Aqua, what’s wrong with you?”                

“Nothing!” she snapped. “Nothing’s wrong with _me_.”

Judging by Terra’s furrowed brow, he understood her just as little as Ven did. “What is wrong with you?”

Aqua backed away, shaking her head. “I don’t . . . I don’t want to go back with you. I-I want you to go away. Both of you.”

“ _What_!” Ven was surprised to hear that escape from his mouth and not Terra’s. “What do you mean? Aqua, Vanitas is out there; you can’t stay here, especially not alone.”

“No, no.” With each syllable, she shook her head fiercely. “No, I don’t want you here. Just leave me alone.”

“Aqua . . .”

“Okay, enough is enough,” Terra said. “We don’t have time for this.”

Aqua looked at him.

And then she ran.

“Ven, after her!”

He didn’t think, simply obeyed Terra’s command. He’d always been the fastest of the three of them and even though Aqua’s terror made her quick, it also made her clumsy. He raced ahead of her, judging the distance between them, then leapt out right in front of her, arms held wide. It was enough for her to skid to a stop, at which point Terra caught up. With him in front and Ven behind, Aqua froze, chest heaving as she entered the realm of hyperventilation.

“You done?” Terra demanded.

Ven couldn’t place the emotion she displayed. It was horror or anguish of some kind, the same look of someone who had just woken from a horrific nightmare. And clearly, to her, he and Terra were the monsters she had seen in her dreams.

She tried to bolt again, but he and Terra moved quickly to cut her off. With a frustrated groan, Terra said, “Aqua, I will put you on a leash if I have to!”

Ven knew right away that was the wrong thing to say. She didn’t get frightened or angry; instead, her face went completely blank. The coldness of it was almost surreal to the panic that had been there before.

She mumbled something indistinct, triggering Terra to say, “You want to say something?”

“I’m not . . . I’m not yours . . .”

Ven’s mouth fell open. Hearing that jangled a nerve inside him that he hadn’t even known existed. And the emotion it fed, it wasn’t pleasant.

Light, what was wrong with him? It was just words, so why did it matter so much? It wasn’t like . . . even if Aqua meant them, that was her business, not his. She . . . she was right. She was her own person. She wasn’t theirs.

Of course, even if he was a wee bit possessive, it was nothing compared to Terra.

“Aqua, get over here.” His tone was devoid of inflection, and that made it absolutely terrifying.

“N-no!” Despite the stutter, she sounded bold now. “No! I’m not yours! I’m not _your goddamn pet_!”

Ven didn’t even register the last word, his mind having shut down when he heard her swear. But Terra heard what she was saying, and he lunged, blue eyes glinting as his huge arms began to circle round-

Something warm and metallic slapped Ven across the face.

Ven threw his arms over his head, expecting a weapon of some sorts to follow. There was nothing though, and he peered out between his fingers. Aqua and Terra had separated now, the former with her keyblade. She was standing across from Terra in a fighting stance. Terra, he was holding himself, his hand doing little to stem the blood from a wound that spanned the expanse of his entire chest. Ven wiped his face, his hand coming back red and telling him what exactly had hit him: Terra’s blood.

Just a few metres away, Aqua was panting, looking every bit the fierce warrior she had been before Silent Hill.

“You’re not touching me again,” she said. “You don’t fool me.”

While Terra healed his wound, Ven took the initiative to address her. “Aqua, what are you doing? We’re your friends!”

She hissed, “Don’t play that game with me. I know what you think of me – what you both think. I’m not your pet, _Ventus_. Not anymore.”

Kingdom Hearts, she was insane! “L-let’s just talk about this,” he said. “Okay, Aqua? Put your keyblade down-”

“No!” Rainfell swiped through the air, making them jump. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Aqua, relax,” Terra said. “We don’t have our keyblades out either.”

“We just want to talk,” Ven said. “Aqua, we’re your friends. We wouldn’t hurt you.”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Aqua-”

“ _I know what you did to my heart_!”

Silence. Ven stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. Aqua . . . she couldn’t be talking about _that_. It was his most closely guarded secret; she and Terra shouldn’t have any clue about that!

But he had been muddling around with her heart. It was naïve to think that she would never notice.

“Ven, she’s kidding, right?” Terra asked.

When Terra’s eyes widened, Ven knew he had hesitated too long. In a low voice, the eldest apprentice said, “What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you,” Aqua spat. “He’s trying to control me, just like Vanitas did.”

“Aqua, please, it’s not like that.” No, no, no! She wasn’t supposed to find out yet, and Terra definitely wasn’t supposed to find out like this. She was going to ruin everything!

“I don’t understand,” Terra said.

“It’s his light, Terra!” Aqua shouted. “He did the same thing that Vanitas did to me.”

“Aqua, please, don’t tell him. Not now!” He was practically on his knees begging, but Aqua showed no sympathy.

“He took some of the light in his heart-”

“Aqua, please, stop!”

“-and forced it inside mine-”

“ _Stop talking_!”

Her mouth snapped shut. He could see the muscles seize up in her throat as they stopped working. Then, he understood. He hadn’t just told her to be quiet; he had _ordered_ her.

Oh, no. No. This couldn’t be happening. He had sworn he would never use his powers to control her; had sworn he would never stoop to Vanitas’s level. But he had done it, albeit not entirely intentionally, and in _front of Terra_. It was one thing to do it to Aqua while she was alone because he could always make her forget-

“Aqua, finish the story,” Terra said.

But she didn’t. She _couldn’t_. She clawed at her throat, working her jaw furiously though the sounds that came out were garbled like she had been gagged. Before Terra’s astounded eyes, she raised a shaking hand and pointed at Ven.

“Ven?” Terra stared at him, waiting for an answer. It was obvious by the way he spoke that he already knew.

Ven swallowed. Then he said to Aqua, “Ignore my previous command.”

It seemed that all her words tried to escape at once, ending up like a muddled choke. She glanced fearfully at him, then turned her full attention to Terra, who was still waiting for her confirmation.

“Vanitas,” Aqua said, “when we first went to Silent Hill, he forced his darkness into my heart so he could control me. And Ven’s doing – done the same thing with his light.”

Terra closed his eyes.

“Guys, it’s not like that!” Ven said. “I didn’t do it to control her; I did to _protect_ her. It’s not the same. I had to do it!”

“Gees, Ven,” Terra said, voice tight. “You think you went a bit overboard there?”

“You don’t understand!” Ven cried. “Terra, we never got rid of Vanitas’s connection with her. I could _feel_ him lurking inside her heart. He was just waiting to take her over again, so I . . . I beat him to it. I filled her heart with my light before he could with his darkness. It’s not the same. I would _never_ do something like that to control her!”

“But you did,” Terra said. “I just saw you.”

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to!”

Terra said nothing for a long time, not until Ven shyly said his name. Then he blinked once, and said, “You really are Vanitas’s other half.”

Ven stepped back. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes.

“And now . . . Shit, she’s gone.”

Ven looked around. Just like Terra had said, Aqua had fled. Eager to change the subject, Ven said, “So, we go after her, right?”

A beat passed. Then Terra said, “I don’t think you should come.”

“Terra-”

“Leave.”

The tears fell freely. “Terra, please, don’t do this.”

Terra hesitated a moment more.

Then he walked away.

Ven shouted after him, but Terra did not stop. Too shocked, too wretched to follow, he collapsed to his knees where bitter sobs shook his body. Clumsily, like a babe that had just discovered her fingers, Ven took up his Wayfinder and held to up to the light.

There, with the trinket slowly rotating by its chain in the moonlight, he finally accepted the truth.

The trio had been broken.


	39. Chapter 39

There were no signs of them coming after her yet, but she knew it wouldn’t be long. Vanitas was right: they weren’t willing to let her go. As it turned out, he was right about most of the things he claimed. She really just was a possession to them. She couldn’t be their friend, because friends wouldn’t –

Her back pained her, right at the site where Ven had plunged the knife into her flesh. The pain stayed with her, even as a memory of a very different nature plagued her. She shut her eyes, squeezing Terra’s face out from her mind. She couldn’t think about them. Not now. Not after this.

She didn’t travel far, still exhausted from the day’s events. She simply jumped to the next world where it was still day, midday to be exact. The golden sun was high in the sky when she landed, warming the back of her neck. She dismissed Rainfell and took in her surroundings. This world, it seemed more modern, or at least more developed than the ones she normally visited. The buildings were not huts or made of wood, but stone. They were painted too, dyed yellow, green or whatever colour their constructor had deemed appropriate. The roofs were steep, shingles overlapping each other, and each was adorned with a double-stacked chimney.

They were about the same size as the houses in Silent Hill, and just as the church (and now, the castle) rose above the homes there, so did one building on this world rise above the rest. It was a white building, the upper half of which formed a ‘U’. It lacked the smooth curve of the letter though, and the corners were sharp, like it had been made out of cubes.

Suddenly, a sound rang across the land. She knew without doubt it came from the giant building, the cathedral. As she stood there, in the middle of the cobblestone street, the chiming of the bells all around her, she let herself remember the name of the world.

La Cité des Cloches.

City of the Bells.

* * *

Sleep. That was her first order of business. It had taken her a while to find a park – by a developed world, she meant very developed – but once she did, she promptly found a tree and to sit beneath and took a nap. It was a fitful sleep, since people kept passing by, looking and whispering about her, and she was still nervous that Terra or Ven would find her. Really, by the time she woke, she felt more exhausted than she had been before she’d slept.

Next up, was food. In a strange way, hunger actually felt foreign to her because despite everything he had done to her in Silent Hill, Vanitas had kept her well-fed. Anyhow, she was starving now, having eaten nothing since the day before Ven had attacked her.

Finding food was easier than finding somewhere to sleep. All she had to do was go towards the center of town, where the space was crowded with street merchants, just like Agrabah. There was something else going on here too, a festival of some sorts it seemed, for there were dancers and people playing instruments and costumes with flashy colours. It was chaos, but organized chaos, and the people were either swarming the performers or loudly haggling with the merchants for goods. She pushed her way through the crowd, taking a few elbows along the way, until she managed to greet a shopkeeper face-to-face.

“Good day, sir,” she said.

“And good day to you, young miss!” The shopkeeper was evidently a boisterous man, who threw his arms out while speaking to her. “Which one of my lovely wares has caught your eye?”

“I’m just here for some food, thanks. Let me just see how much I have . . .”

She pulled out a handful of munny from her pouch, causing the shopkeeper to raise his eyebrows. “What is that?” he asked.

She frowned. “Munny, of course.”

When she failed to rouse an appropriate response, it hit her: this was a world that did not use munny. Short of finding a moogle somewhere, it was useless here.

The shopkeeper peered at her. “Miss, do you _have_ any money?”

Her cheeks going red, Aqua avoided the man’s stare and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I thought I did-”

“Bah!” He slammed his hands against his stall, effectively silencing her. “You beggars are all the same, always troubling decent folks. Why, I bet you were just a distraction for one of those thieves around here!”

“Sir, you have it wrong,” she said, taking a step back as she shook her head. “I didn’t-”

“What did you take?”

“I-”

“You’re not leaving until you return what you stole!”

He stepped out from behind his stall, towering over her. With the sun beating down on his back, it covered his face in shadows and for a second, she saw Terra.

“I’m not working with anyone; I didn’t take anything!” she cried.

He sniffed, and seemed to shrink so they were level with each other again. “Very well. I’ll believe you. This time. Now, scat!”

At his words, intentionally or maybe not, the crowd surged, shoving her away from the shopkeeper. Without any currency to purchase food, she wandered away from the site, finding herself in a quiet street.

A hand grabbed her shoulder.

She whirled around, gasping, magic dancing on the tips of her fingers. But it wasn’t Vanitas or Terra or Ven, just a native to this world. She had a kind, smooth face, with vibrant green eyes and a wavy mane of black hair. Aqua blinked, then started as something was pressed into her hand. She looked down, seeing a bun and an apple.

“I saw what happened,” the woman said. “This should get you through the day.”

“Oh, this isn’t necessary,” Aqua said. “I . . .”

“It’s okay.” She laid a hand on Aqua’s arm. “People like us have to stick together.”

“Like us?” she murmured. She didn’t question further, instead saying, “Thank you.”

The woman smiled. “If you need more, just look for the Court of Miracles. My people don’t have much, but what we do, we gladly share.”

“Thank you,” she said again.

She roamed the city, absently eating. She couldn’t say the food sated her, but it reduced her hunger pains to a manageable grumble. By the time she no longer saw people rushing to the marketplace, her snack was gone and she was left running her tongue over her teeth to capture what juices remained.

Even that ran out. After another swipe around her mouth got only tasteless saliva, she sighed, rubbing her elbow with her opposite hand. She had yet to see any moogles around, odd since they tended to either place themselves around crowds (like those at the marketplace), or stalk outsiders they sensed had munny and conveniently open shop just where that person was about to head through. In other words, they were very helpful and opportunistic; for them not to appear was troublesome.

Unless it had something to do with where she was.

She looked around, biting her lower lip. Rows of buildings lined up on behind and in front. With the sun on the other side of the sky, they covered the whole area in shade. And unlike the others streets, this was filthy.

She felt like she was wading through a gutter. Garbage and debris were shoved up against each side of the narrow road, feeding flies and releasing a sour stench. Some of it had fallen out of the piles and led solitary lives in the road’s center, trampled and crushed into the cobblestone. Grimy stains were what remained of them now, so tightly intertwined with stones that it would be impossible to remove them without a scraper. In this place, the underbelly of Paris, air ceased to move. It was stale, sweltering, wafting into her nose.

She shuddered, hand closing over her heart. A keyblader should not be put off by such places; it was their job to help the defenseless.

That didn’t mean she had to like it.

Like frightened children seeking the embrace of their mother, her clothes clung to her. She didn’t mind; despite the heat, a cold flush was breaking out all over her skin. Still, she walked onwards, perfectly composed on the outside, convinced that if she simply ignored her unease, it would leave.

Down one alleyway, a horde of rats had descended on some rotten fruit. They looked at her as she stood in the alley’s mouth, whiskers twitching. Plump, greasy things they were, bold and sniffing in her direction as if wondering whether she would make a good snack. Aqua cringed, covering her mouth, trying to make herself deaf to their squeals.

She screamed as a hand closed on her leg.

The grip was weak, terribly so, shattering like a dropped piece of glass when Aqua shifted. An old woman lurched forward, as if she couldn’t support herself. Tortured eyes stared into Aqua’s face, distracting the keyblade apprentice from the woman’s yellow teeth as she begged.

“Please . . . please, dear . . .” she gasped. “Spare a livre. God looks fondly on those who give.”

“I don’t have anything,” Aqua whispered. “I’m sorry.”

The woman’s mouth opened in a soundless wail of despair. “You must have something,” she said. “You are so finely dressed . . .”

Aqua took a step back. The woman followed, crawling, grovelling at her feet. Her ratty clothes did little to hide the protruding bones underneath.

“Just a livre, just one. Please.”

“I can’t,” Aqua murmured, backing further away. “I don’t have anything.”

She couldn’t look anymore. She wasn’t supposed to be here, seeing this, being this helpless. But there was nothing that could be done. In this world, she was as poor as this beggar was, and words were not enough to soothe these pains.

She left. She forced herself not to look back.

She had no idea where she was, but high above the houses, the grand majesty of the Notre Dame Cathedral blotted out the sky. She made her way towards that, picking her way through winding streets, backtracking when she hit paths that went nowhere. Half an hour later, she was thoroughly confused.

“Maybe I should just fly,” she murmured. She hadn’t yet because she didn’t know how this world’s people would take the sight of a girl soaring through the sky, but she was sincerely thinking of finding out.

She sighed. It wouldn’t be so bad if she had someone with her, could pass the time a bit. But she was a stranger on this world and her friends . . .

No. She shut her eyes. They . . . she . . . her friends . . .

She didn’t have any.

Save for her, the streets she walked in now was deserted. As a loose paper skittered down its length, she nestled herself in the corner between the stairs to a house’s door and its wall, sliding down until she was sitting. Knees against her chest, she buried her head in them and sniffled.

 _Breathe, Aqua. You’re stronger than this_. She tried to obey her own thoughts, sucking in air with a spluttering gasp. The action, the way her body moved with the swelling of her lungs, caused a cluster of nerves to ignite on her back where Ven had stabbed her. With a half-choked cry, she lurched forwards and cupped the spot, rubbing deep circles into it.

For each circle, her fingers ran over a groove, a scar.

They had betrayed her. That’s all she could say about them. They had turned on her, deceived her. She didn’t understand why. She, Terra and Ven, they had been the Three Musketeers, the unbreakable trio. They had been connected by a friendship deeper than any could imagine, the bond running through their veins like blood. Ven had been so kind, so caring and gentle, and he had taken a knife to her back. Terra had been their protector, powerful, the bravest man she knew, and he had . . .

She had no one now. Master Eraqus was her solitary claim to family, but he had abandoned his calling and would probably hand her over to Terra and Ven to placate them. No, she didn’t even have the Master. She was alone.

“I am a keyblade apprentice,” she whispered to herself. “I have the power to go to whichever world I choose. I don’t . . . I don’t need them. I can do this on my own.”

She tilted her had back, and it rapped against the wall.

“I have to.”

A bolt of energy ran up her arm.

“What . . .?”

Rainfell flickered, struggling to materialize without her consent. After the fifth attempt, she just let it happen. It appeared as it usually did, wreathed in light.

But the light didn’t disappear.

She let go, and the keyblade hit the ground with a clang, the light still not fading. Instead, it grew brighter, sending out rays in all directions, forcing her to shield her eyes.

When she could open them again, she recognized the keyblade as her own, but it had changed. The horseshoe-shaped handle had extended to become a closed circle. The colour was more mottled along the shaft, and the blade was now rectangular instead of rounded. When she picked it up, a burst of white sparkles fell from the tip.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

 _Stormfall_ , the keyblade said. _Take my power so you may survive._

Survive? She held the keyblade up, studying it. It wasn’t the kind of message Rainfell had given her when she first held it.

She twirled her new keyblade, testing it with an Aero spell. Her hair was whipped back as the tornado travelled down the street, picking up debris along the way, which were then tossed in various directions. This keyblade seemed as good, if not better than Rainfell.

Time to get moving.

Filled with new energy, she was standing before the cathedral within fifteen minutes. The bells were ringing again, resonating within her bones. The building was haloed in the sunlight, as if angels had decided to encircle the holy place. Just standing there, she felt there could be no wrong in the world.

Maybe they would let her spend the night.

* * *

They gave her more than that. The bishop not only granted her a bed, but gave her something to eat. So, the next day, she was comfortably full, warm, and most importantly, _safe_. How long had it been since she could wake up and not look over her shoulder? She was free to roam, to go where she pleased, and no one would tell her otherwise.

She took her dear time. If there was one thing her captivity had ingrained into her, it was how to kill time. Plus, she enjoyed simply basking in the peace, the freedom. She nibbled on her breakfast at the end of a table, avoiding eye contact, keeping quiet, and in return, she was ignored.

Outside, the festival was still on, more jovial than ever. Though most were drearily dressed, the festival was saturated with colour. Already giddy from a night without troubles, she couldn’t resist joining in. She danced, carolled and celebrated with the rest, giggling as they pranced through multi-colored confetti.

And froze.

The noise took on a new note, sound more like the panicked clamour of a crowd. The wall of bodies denied her passage, pushing her towards instead of away from Terra. He hadn’t noticed her yet, but with his height, it was a matter of time.

“Watch it!” She jostled some fellow, making him drop a bouquet of flowers.

She didn’t even stop to apologize. Fitting into a gap between two people, she elbowed her way through, bumping more people in her haste. As the uproar started, Terra finally looked, and when she peeked back and met his eyes, she knew he had seen her.

She had the advantage of a head start, and speed. While Terra was athletic and had great endurance, his raw speed had much to be desired.

She went right back down the path she had before, through the suffocating streets filled with grime. To foreigners like themselves, it was a maze. However, she had been down here once already, and that should be enough for her to lose him.

She made her way around the town, back towards the cathedral as she had before. And standing there in the building’s shadow again, she was free once more. She looked around once, confirming that Terra wasn’t sneaking up on her. It was time for her to leave.

She was a second away from leaving, her fingers curling in preparation of grasping Stormfall, when she heard the distressed shout. It snatched up her attention, holding it fast like an eagle grabbing a hare, and she had to see what it was.

The marketplace was even more packed than before, and the cheers had changed to jeers. High above the crowd, on a throne before a red curtain, sat a man with sharp, narrow features. His face was pinched with irritation, shaded by a purple and black hat, adding to the executioner-like appearance of his long black robe. With his long fingers intertwined, his steely gaze was fixed straight ahead, on the spectacle that had roused those cries for help.

Tied to a spinning wheel, was what appeared to be a man. With the speed of the rotations, it was hard to make out any details save for his green clothes. But she didn’t care. All she saw was an anguished soul restrained like an animal, a soul enduring the mockery of a crowd that chucked fruit at him.

At the edge of the crowd, Aqua saw a woman trying to force her way through. Long wavy hair told her who it was: the woman who had given her food before. She screamed desperately for the man’s tormenters to stop, words falling on deaf ears.

But Aqua heard, and with strength and agility the other woman lacked, she pushed her way through the crowd, and before their astonished eyes, leapt upon the platform holding the wheel.

The voices went silent.

She slowly walked up to the ravaged man, wheel no longer spinning. Down on his knees, arms tied behind his back, he looked up at her with terrified eyes, not quite registering that she was a friend. Now, she saw why they abused him so. He was deformed: face squashed like a pug, shoulders too big, spine not bending as it should. None of that mattered to her. He was distressed, a _person_ , and she would not watch him suffer.

“You, girl! Get down immediately.”

Aqua jumped. The man on the throne had risen, pointing at her. He was wearing a ruby ring. That just made her angry. How could he sit there, this privileged, arrogant man, and watch this?

“I will,” she said softly, “as soon as I free him.”

Her eyes roved over the spectators, she caught sight of the girl from the Court of Miracles smiling proudly at her.

But it wasn’t enough. Back on his throne, wallowing in his riches and power, the man barked, “I forbid you!”

Her anger became a tangible force, making the crowd gasp and step away. Locking stares with the man, she very deliberately positioned herself next to the hunchback.

With one swipe of her keyblade, she freed him.

The hunchback had nearly fallen, hands on the edges of the wheel as he took deep breathes. Her keyblade still thrumming, she spun around, daring the man to say something.

He looked at her with complete horror.

She blinked. Was it really that shocking that someone would disobey him? But it was not just him, but everyone. They watched her with terror, mumbling to each other, parents clutching their children. Even the woman, who had been so approving before, was inching away,

Then, someone said it:

“She summoned that weapon out of thin air; she’s a witch! A witch! Witch!”

As the man chanted, the others began to join him, their voices twisting and morphing into one. The man on the throne had lost his fear, and now he couldn’t be described as anything but murderous.

“Seize her!” he thundered.

Guards marched forwards, brandishing swords. She could barely believe this; her mind swimming like she was in a dream, she positioned herself in the center of the platform, watching the hunchback out of the corner of her eye.

The first guard came up the stairs, swung his sword. She blocked him easily, countering too quickly for him to react, pushing him back where he crashed into the next guard that would have climbed up.

She twirled her keyblade in her hands. She wasn’t sticking around for this. Sure, she probably could take all these guards, but only in a fair fight, and she had a feeling this wasn’t so. The hunchback . . . he wasn’t a witch. He would be fine.

But before she could call her glider, a tomato smacked against her back. It was enough to make her hesitate, and that was enough for another thing to be thrown.

It wasn’t fruit.

The rock cracked against her skull. She teetered forwards, face screwed up in pain, rubbing the spot. And upon seeing how effective the first had been, the people gathered up more rocks.

They battered her from all sides, so thick, so vicious, that the guards dared not approach. A Barrier spell stopped them cold, protected her, convinced the mob they were correct.

It couldn’t last forever. The spell faded, and the second that blue barrier disappeared, they knew. Rocks rained again, each aiming to kill. They slammed into her gut, making her spit up bile; made her muscles contract violently and cast her from side to side.

A grey blur smashed right into her face.

She barely even felt the pain. She couldn’t feel much of anything anymore, least of all her own body. The rocks stopped as she staggered forward, balancing on the edge, and then an overzealous guard tried to grab her, instead fumbling and nudging her off the platform.

The crowd fell upon her. There were fists, feet, knees, howls for blood that she couldn’t understand but still made her heart stop. She fought, as best as she could, blasting them with spells that would force them away but not kill.

Someone got behind her, wrenched her arms behind her back. Offense, she needed to go on the offensive _now_. It was too late though, and the first fist in her stomach drove out what remained of her air, and her strength.

There was pain. Only pain.


	40. Chapter 40

Tone devoid of inflection, Terra said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

Behind him, facing the older boy’s back, Ven gritted his teeth. His fists were curled into fists at his side, a smaller version of the knot of frustration in his breast. “She’s my friend, too,” he grated out.

Terra turned slowly, chin dipping slightly. “It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“It was an accident!” he nearly shrieked. “I didn’t mean to do it; it slipped out.”

“And what if it does again?” Terra asked. “Then what?”

“Then I’ll cancel the order again,” Ven said.

“Even if I’m not there as a witness?”

“Well, yeah, of course.” His face went red as the implications sunk in. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

Terra turned his body away. “I don’t know.”

That answer whipped him with a cool gust, stripping his fury. Ven wilted, muscles no longer possessing the will to keep his body straight. “Terra, I’m not Vanitas,” he whispered. “I’m still me.”

Terra didn’t say anything, his eyes busy roving over faces as he searched for Aqua.

“Terra . . .” As Terra started to tromp away, Ven jogged behind him, pleading. “Terra, just forget about what happened for a few seconds. This isn’t about me, this is about _Aqua_. She’s hurt, Terra; we have to find her.”

He leapt in front of Terra, barring his way. “You’ll find her quicker with me.”

Terra glared down at him; Ven stared back.

Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, Terra said, “I lost her yesterday, but I think she’s still on this world. That’s what the Wayfinder says at least.” With a frown, Terra looked at the aforementioned object. “I want to check the marketplace. After all that’s happened, she’ll probably feel safer if she’s with a crowd.”

Ven released a sigh. Terra was mollified, for now. Taking his place next to the older boy as he walked, Ven cast a few sideways glances at him. Terra looked . . . Terra looked calm. He did a double-take just to be sure. Where was the frustration, the rage? Terra was like a statue, perfectly poised, each feature etched deep into his face and somehow unreal. It was weird.

But he wasn’t going to ruin this. He knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The marketplace was empty. They stood alone in the street as a wave of dirt blew across the ground. The stands were still erected, but lacking any owners or wares. There was still trash from yesterday’s festival, remains of fruit turning black in the sun. Terra took a step forwards, and the sound echoed.

“What happened?” Ven asked.

Terra slowly moved back. His arm was held straight out, just in case Earthshaker was required. “I don’t know. There were plenty of people here yesterday.”

Minutes passed and no one arrived to answer their questions. Around that time, Ven finally decided it was safe and walked into the center of the place. Somewhere else, a man’s voice was booming, carrying over the roofs. Ven could only make out the general shape of the sounds, not what they were actually saying.

“I don’t see why they’re all gone,” Ven said. He had checked a few of the stands for clue, but found nothing.

Terra stalked up behind him, eyes hooded as he kept a watch on their surroundings. “Me neither.”

Before either could say anything else, a buzz rose over the horizon. Not the buzz of insects, but the blurred sound of many people speaking at once. As it grew louder, the words became more fathomable, and they realized it wasn’t just any din, it was a chant. An entire crowd of people, saying one thing over and over.

“Burn! Burn!”

“Looks like we found everyone,” Terra said. His arm finally dropped as he navigated towards the sound.

It wasn’t hard to find. The group was located in the City Square, crowded around . . . something. Ven couldn’t see. Actually, Terra couldn’t see much either. The larger boy was standing on his tiptoes, craning his neck in an attempt to look. Eventually, he gave up and tapped someone on the shoulder. However, though he was greeted by an overjoyed smile, the man shushed him and went back to cheering.

Terra rubbed his forehead. “Ven, sit on my shoulders.”

He did so happily, clambering up Terra’s back like a monkey climbing on a tree. Wriggling around, he made himself comfortable, joining dozens of children whose parents also had the same idea.

Now, this was better. He could see over the mass of heads now and to the stone platform beyond. Squinting, studying it closely, he began to relay the sight to Terra.

“Okay, so there’s a man, and he’s dressed in some kind of black robe and has a purple and black hat. He looks pretty important. Uh, there are a few guards with him. They have swords, nothing serious. And . . . Aqua?”

He bounced on Terra’s shoulders as the other boy jumped. “Aqua’s there?”

He looked closer. “I think so . . . Terra, she’s tied up.”

“ _What_?”

“She’s tied up!” Ven repeated, voice an octave higher than it should be. “Terra, they’ve got her tied to some giant pole, and there’s a bunch of wood under her and she doesn’t look like she’s in good shape -”

There was so much more to be said, so many words pushing against the inside of his throat in an attempt to escape, but all that spluttered into nothing when the man in the robe was handed a burning torch. With firm conviction, he marched towards the restrained Aqua, and everything became much too clear.

“Terra, _they’re burning her_! They’re going to _BURN_ her!”

Terra probably didn’t mean to push him off, but he did. Between Ven’s frozen body and the other boy’s surge forwards, it was inevitable. Terra slammed right into the nearest knot of people, grabbing them by the shirt and throwing them out of his way. Ven tried, fitting into what small spaces he could, each setback and bit of resistance resonating keenly within his mind, heart pounding as he realized they were _running out of time_. He wailed and screamed, calling Aqua’s name, begging her captors to stop. But his cries only added to the bloodthirsty howls of the rest, lost among them.

Terra, meanwhile, had run into troubles of his own. The crowd had turned against him and his rough actions, and now a few men were forcibly hauling him back, looking to kick him out of their celebrations.

“Drunk,” one grunted. He cracked Terra’s head back with a punch, momentarily stunning him. “Come back when you’re sober!”

Terra wiped a trickle of blood from his lip. “Get out of my way.”

That was all Ven heard before the men started shouting at him. Setting his jaw, Ven bowed his head and charged. He ran directly into someone’s back, grunting as he tried to force his way between them and the next person.

The crowd hushed in eager anticipation, and that allowed Ven to hear the most terrifying thing ever.

Aqua sobbed, “Please, stop! I didn’t hurt anyone. PLEASE!”

And the crowd cheered as the pyre was finally lit. Both his and Aqua’s screams were lost in the uproar, but Ven still thought he could hear the fire crackling.

What he didn’t hear was Terra’s reaction. Out of terror and desperation, he looked back at the eldest apprentice, their guardian angel. Terra had gone rigid, his face blank, eyes still blue. What . . .? Where was the darkness? Why wasn’t Terra freaking out? He _should_ be freaking; they were _burning Aqua alive_. How dare he _not_ freak out!

One of the men spoke directly to him, gaining Terra’s attention again. The way the apprentice looked at them, it was like a person staring at a bug. Terra looked over their heads, at the smoke beginning to rise, and his face hardened with decision. He marched forwards, blinking when the men stopped him again.

In one swift move, he killed them all.

It was enough to make Ven temporarily forget about Aqua. He could only watch as Terra kicked a severed head aside like a loose ball, and mindlessly stepped over the bodies to get closer to his prize. He no longer bothered to try and peacefully work his way through the crowd, but hacked into them from behind.

“Light . . .” Ven whispered.

As Terra carved his bloody trail, more and more of the cries became those of panic. People began to flee, pushing against each other, crushing other in their haste to escape. In the corner of his eye, Ven saw a woman fall, only to be trampled by those around her.

“Terra, what are you doing?” he shrieked.

Terra didn’t seem to hear him. Ven was about to run to him, to end this, when he faintly heard Aqua screaming. His entire body froze, including his heart. No, please, no . . . he couldn’t leave her, but Terra . . . Terra was . . .

His mouth ran dry. Should he stop Terra’s massacre, or should he save his best friend?

Aqua screamed, louder than ever, agony echoing in the sound, and Ven’s mind went blank. He went for her, deaf to the gasps of Terra’s victims, knowing only his need to protect his friends.

He hollered her name just as air sirens went off.

He froze. He knew that sound. Everyone knew that sound.

At least, everyone who had been to Silent Hill.

A crack ripped the cobblestone apart, right in front of him. It grew wider and wider, and in its depths, glowed orange with hellfire. People stopped, hypnotized by the light. They wavered at the edges, backing up just fast enough to avoid falling.

And the spell was broken just as the first monster burst through.

It looked like a ball of fire, with arms and legs added in. A paw swung through its victim’s face, leaving blackened flesh behind. He gripped it in agony, falling to his knees. And the monster grabbed his shoulders, opened its jaws wide as it loomed over him, and swallowed whole the upper half of his body. As the person began to roast, the rotten stench of burnt meat wafted through the air.

That set the crowd back into running, all except Ven and Terra. Terra was still fighting, pushing his way through to Aqua, and Ven was watching the proceedings. His was a state of uncanny calm, even as a voice that eerily sounded like Vanitas ranted, _They deserve this. All of them!_

A quake rocked him, giving him back his mind. Along the sides of the square, buildings crumbled, dislodging deformed vultures that had made it their perch. Now, forced to fly, they chose their victims, snatching them away in strong talons and hauling them off to peck out their eyes. From the rubble crawled out pale humanoids, face slack and unchanging, like corpses.

Ven looked around, at the fissures stretching across the landscape, at the orange glow masking the horizon, the monsters tearing apart their victims and dragging them back into the flames. He saw the winged creatures circling above, the smoky clouds that had filled the sky, the lightning that struck and brought more buildings to their knees. The air was thick with screams, so that it was impossible to tell one from the next, and as they grew to a fevered pitch, a great purple bolt struck the cathedral. The right tower snapped like a twig, sending the upper half crashing through the structure below, covering the building in a bloom of dust and smoke. And with the erasure of that, of that holy place, one thing became clear:

They were in hell.

“Aqua!”

Enough people had cleared that he could run straight for the platform, and as he did, the sight he absorbed was terrifying. The Bogeyman was there, right in front of Aqua, who was thrashing wildly. Whether it was from fear of him or pain was a mystery. The Bogeyman reached out, oblivious to the flames, wound its arms around the helpless Aqua and gripped the ropes.

With one heave, it tore them apart.

Before Ven’s astonished eyes, it lifted her up, away from the flames, placing her gently on the ground again. Then, that tenderness was gone as the Bogeymen whipped around, tearing through someone who had dared approached. The bloodstained knife sunk a few inches into the ground, leaving a glistening red edge behind.

Ven cared for none of this. Bad things happened when the Bogeyman was present, and right now, it was by Aqua. That was not acceptable!

He leapt onto the platform, knees bent, teeth bared. He held Lost Memories in his reverse grip so tightly his hands ached. The Bogeyman groaned, angling its helmet so that the slits faced Ven.

He charged. His blade met the knife’s shaft, clanging. He swung again at the chest, missing as the monster lurched back. But still he pressed forwards, striking again and again, refusing to be pushed back. He was bellowing the entire time, all his fury, his dismay, his guilt expressed in that one awful sound.

And finally, it was true. He slashed the Bogeyman right across the chest, painting his keyblade with black blood. Laced with light, Lost Memories had caused the wound to sizzle, and he could dimly see it bubbling at the edges.

“How do you like that?” he spat.

The Bogeyman stepped off the platform and before it left, jerked its head sideways in a clear demand to look.

He took the bait, and was glad he did. What he saw was Aqua making a break for safety. Her legs must have been damaged, for she was hobbling, most of her weight on a keyblade Ven did not recognize. Behind her, a guard had gathered up his sword, eying her with unmistakable intent.

Ven didn’t even think. The next second, his keyblade was flying through the air, and it impaled the guard’s back.

It hit him all at once: _I killed someone_.

Oh, Light, he felt bad, but not enough. Sure, his stomach was churning like he was going to be sick, but something was wrong. It wasn’t enough. Where was the crippling guilt, the anguish? Why didn’t he want to curl into a ball and cry?

Terra leapt then onto the platform, distracting Ven from his worries. He was dripping with blood, only small patches of him spared. “Where is she?” he demanded.

Before Ven could say anything, Terra reached down below the platform and with one hand, lifted up a man by the throat. It was the guy in the black robes, the same one who had lit Aqua’s pyre.

Something was wrong. The look in Terra’s eyes, it was too focused, too cool. “Terra,” he said, “what are you doing?”

Terra said calmly. “Where is she?”

The man spluttered. “I-I –” More was said, but it was impossible to tell what was choked out around Terra’s vice-like grip.

“Where is she?” Terra said.

“I don’t know,” the man hacked.

“Terra,” Ven said, “she’s –”

 _Crack_. Terra slammed the man into the ground. His eyes bugged out, mouth gaping open as he tried to draw in breath.

“Terra, stop!”

But Terra didn’t listen, too busy asking his question again. When he failed to get the answer he wanted, he stomped on the man’s chest, breaking his ribs. Then he did it again and again, until the man was useless for his cause. Ven was frozen during all of this, stunned into silence by the spectacle of cruelty.

And Terra, realizing what he had done, simply looked for another person to interrogate.

It was too much. Ven leapt forwards, slamming his hand on Terra’s chest, ready to bring back _his_ Terra, to drive back the darkness within him and . . .

It didn’t work.

Not because his powers had failed, but because the darkness wasn’t in control. No, those were coils of light he felt, wrapped tightly around Terra’s heart. It wasn’t even like before, where one of Terra’s elements were in control and the other sleeping. This was much different. Much worse.

Terra’s darkness wasn’t in control, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that his darkness was _gone_.

* * *

Aqua crawled out of the City Square and into the alley, the temperature dropping almost immediately. Panting, she slumped against the wall, resting. Sweat rolled down her forehead; her hair was already damp.

She stiffened. There was someone else in here with her. They were also against the wall, not moving.

Her mind whimpered, _They’ll tie me up again. They’ll hurt me again._ Throat dry, she tried to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic croak.

She trembled, too scared to move. Her burnt legs scraped against the ground, but she had too much adrenaline to feel pain. That person, they weren’t moving. Maybe they were hurt, too?

_They deserve it for what they did to me._

But she couldn’t ignore her motherlyurges and crawled closer. She saw then that it was no random stranger, but a boy she knew very well: Vanitas. Just as she realized that, his unmasked head lolled to the side, eyes focusing on her. A second later, they were unfocused again.

“V-Vanitas?”

He managed a crooked smile. “You got out.”

She thought back to that figure she saw while the flames roared around her, the familiar monster that had chosen to save her. Quietly, voice shaking, she said, “Did you do this?”

“Of course I did.” He stroked her cheek. “You needed me.”

A spasm went through his body, making him moan and shudder. She flinched, hating the sound.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

He took a few seconds to answer, still recovering. “Opening up the otherworld outside of Silent Hill,” he said, punctuating his words with a cough, “It’s not easy. You should go before someone finds you, Aqua.”

She cast a fearful look behind her, but no one had caught up yet. At his urging, she transformed Stormfall into its glider form.

He raised his eyebrows. “You have a new keyblade.”

“Its name is Stormfall,” she murmured.

He nodded once, smirking, then slid into unconsciousness.

She hugged the keyblade tight to her, feeling profusely alone. Vanitas was right; she needed to leave. No doubt they would blame her for what happened here. If they found her again . . . she didn’t even want to think about it.

But someone was holding her back, the simple question of: _What if they find Vanitas_? With his yellow eyes, he would be branded a demon instantly. What if he confessed to his actions in some misguided attempt to protect her? He would die, burn in her place.

Two memories flashed in her mind: one being the fate she had just escaped from, the other a memory of _actually_ burning as a young girl named Alyssa. No one deserved that fate. She couldn’t live with herself if she left someone to suffer that.

She pulled Vanitas onto her glider and then, wobbling, she started to fly.


	41. Chapter 41

His blue eyes hard and cold, Terra stared blankly at Ven, oblivious – or uncaring – about the younger boy’s horror. The conclusion Ven had reached was impossible, surreal, but true. This was not Terra, not _his_ Terra standing before him. This was _Terra’s light_.

He placed his hand on Terra’s chest again, closing his eyes as he dug deep inside, searching for a wisp of darkness. But all he got was warmth and in his mind’s eyes, a glow as bright as the sun. No, there was no darkness here. Just light. Just like him.

“Terra, your darkness . . . it’s gone.”

“Gone?” Terra scrunched up his brow. “Ven, what are you talking about?”

“The darkness in your heart,” he explained impatiently, “it’s . . .”

“Watch out!”

Before Ven could even check, Terra threw him behind him, deflecting the sword of a wild-eyed guard with Earthshaker. Twitching, tears streaming from his eyes, this was clearly a man who had lost his mind.

Terra calmly blasted apart the man’s heart with a shotlock.

“Terra, _what are you doing_?” Ven shrieked.

Terra turned, a small smile on his face. “Protecting you,” he said. “Relax, Ven. You’re safe now.”

Ven backed away, Terra’s easy smile following him. Past the older boy lay the battleground, where the demons summoned by this hell were chipping away at the last of the crowd. Bodies were strewn everywhere, most blackened, blood coating their chest as if they had vomited it up. Yet chaotic though the scene was, he still knew which ones were Terra’s victims.

Suddenly, the ground rocked. The glowing fissures began to close, coming together with a thump. Monsters disintegrated into smoke, the remains rising to join the black clouds that were starting to clear. Daylight shone through the holes, touching the stone, turning those areas from black rubble into cobblestone again. Bit by bit, the city returned to normal.

But the bodies remained.

“She’s gone,” Terra said suddenly, glancing at his Wayfinder like a watch. “Let’s go.”

Ven didn’t move. Terra’s tone, his casualness, this couldn’t be him. This wasn’t _his_ Terra. He had been ripped apart, like Ven and Vanitas, separated into two beings. And . . . Kingdom Hearts . . . could Terra’s light really be this cruel?

“Ven?”

“Don’t you feel anything?” he blurted out. “Terra, you just killed all those people! Don’t you feel guilty or something?”

Terra stared. Then he ruffled Ven’s hair, leaving a streak of red behind. “Ven, I was protecting you,” he said. “How can I feel guilty about that?”

* * *

Basking in the midday sun, the savannah was hazy with heat. Head bowed, Aqua staggered through the land. Even with her healing magic, her back legs throbbed, aching every time the skin stretched.

The sun beat on her back. If she could sweat in this form, she would have been drenched. Under the thick pads of her paws, the grass was brittle and dry. She could barely get enough air, having to breathe around the burden she carried in her mouth.

It wasn’t her fault. She had no idea how else to carry Vanitas as a lion. So, she had his scruff in his teeth, and his hind paws grazed the ground as she dragged him. Though he had yet to regain consciousness, his eyelids fluttered open from time to time, revealing his eyes, the same golden shade as an ordinary cat’s eyes. His black fur was thin, with a spiky tuff at the top of his head that resembled hair.

When she reached a waterhole, she dropped him at the edge and more or less collapsed into the water. The water leaked through her fur, soothing the burns. She gasped in relief.

She lapped up mouthful after mouthful, filling her stomach with the cool liquid, stuffing herself until she could no longer feel thirst nor hunger. Pulling herself out again, she laid down next to Vanitas, still reflexively panting from the heat. He must have been boiling with all that fur, so she dipped him in.

Now what? Right now, they were alone, as she had intended. Certainly, there wouldn’t be any people bothering them. That’s why she had chosen this world, to get away from humans and anything they would do to her. But what did she do now?

She rested there for a while, then cleared out with Vanitas when a herd of elephants tramped onto the scene. She carried him away from the site, finally settling under the shade of a broad tree. She put him down and sat there, unsure of what to do now. He had saved her, she had returned the favour. But did she leave him now, before he could wake up and hurt her?

Her ears lay flat. She didn’t know what to do.

The heat made her sluggish. She leaned against the tree’s trunk, leaving Vanitas by the edge of the shadow. Keeping her eyes on him, she laid down. From there, it was only a matter of time before the heat lulled her into sleep.

When she woke up, he was curled up against her side.

Her fur fluffed up. It stayed that way for a minute, before she wrestled back control over her emotions and forced back the fear.

He wasn’t hurting her. He hadn’t hurt her, not this time, at least. He was safe. She was safe.

For now.

As her heart returned to its regular pace, she could breathe again. She rubbed her cheek against the ground, in need of some kind of physical contact.

Fur rustled. Vanitas stirred, tail twitching. Sleepily, he shook his head, then looked up at her. His eyes were half-lidded, mouth opening in a wide yawn. The light glinted off the tips of his canines.

She shut her eyes. Maybe it wasn’t too late; maybe she could pretend to be asleep.

It seemed he bought it. Vanitas stood, wobbling on his paws like a baby bird. He walked away from her surprisingly, but the reason why became clear when he began to cough violently. She instantly leapt to her paws, and a twitch of Vanitas’s ears showed that she had given away her charade.

He didn’t come after her, but remained where he was, hunched, hacking. She was still, but when a minute passed and the fit had yet to end, she cautiously approached. She meant to touch his shoulder, tap it with her hand like she would to anyone else. But lions did not act that way, and before she even knew she was moving, her body translated that intention into its own language, and she rubbed her forehead against him.

She froze. That had been stupid. Oh, Light, that had been so stupid . . .

He didn’t react to that, because at the moment his stomach released its contents. What was in that brown muck, she couldn’t tell, nor did she really want to know.

She turned her head away, waiting until the gagging stopped. Only then did she look, watching him rock on his heels, then pitch forwards right where his sick lay –

She swept in, grabbing him by the scruff before he fell into his own vomit. She hauled him back, depositing him at the base of the tree where he laid on his side, chest heaving.

Okay, he was awake. She was done, right? He would be fine; he could warp himself back to Silent Hill and heal at his own pace. She could leave him.

With one last look, she set off on her own.

She walked and walked. Countless animals passed, but she couldn’t really recall any that she saw. The sun journeyed across the sky, finally touching the horizon on the other side. In that time, where dusk hit, she realized how hungry she was. Her last real meal was that morning in the cathedral, right before that . . . trouble. They hadn’t fed her in the cell; made sense since she had been unconscious most of the time. At least, that’s what she thought. She couldn’t remember. Her memory of that time was muddled. Then she had taken Vanitas here and wandered aimlessly . . . how long had it been since she had arrived here? More than a day, she knew that.

Although lions did not have to eat every day, it seemed she was reaching her limits. Her hunger was very real, almost another voice of its own, screaming inside her head.

Food. She needed food.

By instinct, her nostrils flared, tasting the air and what came with it. So many scents, she, consciously, couldn’t wrap her head around them. But the lion knew, and latched onto the one it wanted.

As she padded across the savannah, she mulled over the strangeness of taking an animalistic form. It was like sharing her mind with another, where every action was only performed with consensus.

Zebra. That’s what he found. She lurked in some nearby brush, watching them intensely. Did . . . did she hunt them? She didn’t want to. She had slain heartless and monsters before, but never actually killed something.

There was a tree nearby, one with fruit. She leapt at it, gripping it with her paws, trying to push herself up. On the third try, her claws finally slipped out. Then, bound by bound, she climbed.

They were wet and squishy, the fruit. The sweetness burned her tongue. She kept eating, knocking them to the ground, then jumping down and gobbling them up. Easier said than done; her teeth couldn’t chew, nor could they shred, and by the end, she was ripping fruit apart with claws, then licking the scarps up.

After she had finished a dozen or so, her body fought back. Without warning, she puked, spilling what should have been her dinner. With dismay, she stared, forgetting to be grossed out.

The cramps dissuaded her from trying again, and she couldn’t bring herself to hunt. She wandered away, staggering, finally curling up in a small cave she found.

Her dreams were filled with fractured memories, bits and pieces of everything that had happened to her. Though she woke up remembering nothing, her heart was slamming against her ribs, throat raw from crying out. Lions couldn’t cry, but she came awfully close. Curled up so tight her tail was draped across her nose, she wheezed and trembled there in the shadows.

She became aware of a warm touch on the back on her head, steady, moving down it like someone stroking her back. She whined, focusing on that rhythm, tuning into the low purr. Her heart slowed, matching the pace of the other person.

She could feel the other body pressing against her, solid, strong. The purr was deep, like the rumble of an earthquake. Distantly, she mewed, “Terra?”

A paw went on her neck, holding her down. The rubbing continued, digging deeper, more insistent. At one point, the lion missed, going down the side instead of the back of her head, and she saw a slab of pink flesh.

She was being licked.

 _Eww_.

That got her up. She propelled away from the other, coming face to face not with Terra or any stranger, but the small figure of Vanitas. He was still lying down, tongue hanging out.

Body arched, she said, “What are you doing?”

“You were having nightmares.” If Vanitas were able to shrug, she was sure that he would have. “I was trying to help you.”

“With your _tongue_?”

“Well, it’s not like I have hands!” he snapped. “Whose fault is that?”

She shivered, and wasn’t sure why. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said.

Vanitas scoffed.

She turned her back on him, teetering towards the mouth of the cage. It was then Vanitas chose to say, “You’re not eating.”

She paused. Looked back. Vanitas had marched up behind her, standing there looking very much like a stern parent. She almost gaped, stunned by the comparison, but shook it off and ignored him.

“I brought food.”

She looked back, not because of his words, but the chill that swept over her back. Vanitas had his upper half in a dark portal, and when he emerged again, he had a gazelle corpse with him.

“Eat.” He tried to push it to her with just his nose, but it was too heavy for that.

She shied away, shaking her head.

“Aqua,” he said, “you’re starving. I can smell it, for crying out loud.”

“Those were _alive_ ,” she said. “Vanitas, I can’t eat this.”

Tell that to her stomach. Upon smelling the meat, her mouth had filled with saliva, and her hunger was so bad it hurt. She could only move away an inch at a time, anything else was too much.

He lunged. Focused as she was on the meat, she reacted too late. His teeth sunk into her scuff, his weight fell on top of her head, pressing it into the ground less than a metre away from the gazelle.

“Eat,” he snarled.

“Vanitas – ”

“ _Now_!”

She had the advantage of size, but her body agreed heartily with him and she was still too terrified to disobey. She sprung forwards, sinking her fangs into the meat, and the second the first drop of blood touched her tongue, she couldn’t stop.

She ate ravenously, previous worries forgotten. She could think of nothing but making her jaws work faster. When Vanitas got too close, she actually snapped at him, something he did not react kindly to. A wave of darkness chased her away from her meal, and Vanitas coldly reclaimed it, placing his paw atop it.

Like a whipped puppy, she was crouched and huddling in a corner, shaking. Vanitas snorted, and then backed off in an act of forgiveness. Yet when she approached, he suddenly pounced on the meat again, tail lashing as he sunk into a fighting stance.

“I shouldn’t let you have this,” he said calmly, “not after the way you behaved.”

She whimpered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, it all happened so fast . . . Vanitas, please, I’m hungry.”

“You didn’t even want it in the first place,” he pointed out. He called a portal to him, and made a move that could only be meant to depose of the corpse.

“No!” She jerked violently. “Please, I’m starving. I need to eat!”

He climbed right on top of the gazelle and looked her in the eye. “Beg,” he hissed.

A good portion of her mind was screaming to stop, to get out of here before she fell into his trap. But she didn’t seem to be in control of her body. Against her will, she laid flat, ears pressed against her skull as she pleaded with him. Vanitas’s eyes were wide, as if hadn’t actually expected her to obey.

When he gave the go-ahead, she started tearing it apart again, savouring the feel of the meat sliding down her throat. The warmth made her remember: this thing had been _alive_. And not just that, but she was on a world ruled by animals, a world where they were _sentient_. What was she doing? Dear Light, she couldn’t be doing this; this was horrible –

Her body refused to stop. She was no longer the driver, just a passenger in a runaway car. She continued to eat, never slowing, devouring organs she ordinarily wouldn’t have dared touched. Vanitas sat nearby, studying her frenzy, thinking hard.

She didn’t like that.

Finally, it was all gone and she was left licking the bones. Guiltily, she shut her eyes, unable to stop even though the food sat heavily in her belly. She wanted to blame Vanitas for this, but it was completely her fault for losing control.

The heat of the frenzy finally wore off. She backed away, refusing to look at what she had done.

He swatted at a loose rib. “You didn’t leave any for me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I couldn’t stop,” she mumbled. “I tried, but my body wouldn’t let me.”

Vanitas rubbed up against her. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “That how the world works. The circle of life and all that stuff.”

“I couldn’t control myself.”

His tail waved up and down in a lion’s version of a shrug. “Are you really that surprised? It’s not who you are.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’ve never been in control, Aqua,” he said. “You’ve always _been_ controlled.”

She bristled. “Is this about Terra and Ven again?” she demanded. “Because they don’t control me anymore; I’m done with them and –”

“Actually, I was thinking more of Master Eraqus, but they work, too.” Calmly, he licked his paw. “You’re always served under someone, Aqua, even before I came along. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. Leaders can’t exist if there’s nobody to lead. What I am saying is that you weren’t born to be a leader. That’s not who you are, Aqua.”

She growled, though the sound fell flat. “That’s not for you to decide.”

“I’m not saying it is,” he agreed, “but I’m just looking at the facts. You’ve decided to take charge of your destiny, what, just five days ago? And already you’ve been beaten by a mob, nearly burned at the stake, starved yourself, and then tried to poison yourself with a bunch of fruit. Really, what was that about?”

She cringed, feeling incredibly stupid. “I didn’t want to hunt,” she said.

He sighed. As he rubbed up against her chest, his tail curled around her leg in what could have been an innocent or possessive manner. His chin wrenched back as he stared up at her, eyes big and wide like a kitten.

“Aqua, Aqua,” he purred. “Sometimes, I wonder how you can be so naïve? What do you think lions on this world eat? If they’re okay with it, there isn’t any reason you shouldn’t be.”

She stayed silent, not wanting to discuss morality with him. She was scared he might make sense.

“You won’t survive like this,” he warned, “on your own. That’s not who you are, Aqua. Humans are social, and you especially. You need someone to watch over you. You’ll die like this.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said stonily.

“No, you won’t.”

Time to change the topic, before he really started to push whatever agenda he had. Quietly, she did the only thing guaranteed to catch him off guard: she thanked him for the food.

He purred. “You don’t need to thank me. What kind of friend would I be if I let you starve?”

She chose not to comment.

He gently disentangled himself from her. “I’m sorry I had to be so aggressive,” he said. “But you were hurting yourself, and I was just trying to help you. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do, Aqua. I’ve always tried to look after you.”

She looked away. “You sound like Terra.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he asked.

She stayed silent.


	42. Chapter 42

Ven was acting so silly today.

Terra smiled at him, but Ven just shuddered and looked away. Really, he was acting odd, more like they were in Silent Hill instead of La Cité des Cloches. Perhaps that was it; the whole incident with the hellish world that had overtaken the Town Square, it had been similar to the dark world of Silent Hill. If Terra remembered correctly, he’d even heard the air sirens.

Hmm, that was troubling. Silent Hill shouldn’t be outside the Land of Departure, but then again, stranger things had happened.

And once again, they involved Aqua.

Aqua. Oh, Aqua. Why was she making things so hard? He didn’t blame her for running away during that recent havoc – anybody would have, particularly in her situation – but she certainly didn’t have to run away during that whole confrontation between him, her and Ven in the forest. If she hadn’t done that, then this wouldn’t have happened. And now she was gone again, licking her wounds on some other world. That was fine. As long as they didn’t lose her when they found her again.

“How much is this?” Terra asked, dropping a pile of rope in front of a storeowner.

The storeowner did not answer right away, too busy staring at Terra with wide eyes. The man appeared uninjured but no doubt he had heard of what had transpired in the Town Square. _Everyone_ knew by now. And the blood on Terra’s shirt would have been direct testimony that everything the man had heard was true.

“Terra, why are you buying that?” Ven asked quietly.

“For Aqua, obviously,” he said.

Ven looked at him with dismay. “You’re going to _tie her up_?”

“No, no, of course not!” He held a hand up, pleasant smile stretched across his face. He understood Ven’s concerns; after what she had been through, immobilizing Aqua with rope would be deeply traumatizing for her. “It’s just to make it a little harder for her to fly the coop.”

“So, you’re not going to use the rope on her?” Ven sounded deeply sceptical.

“It’s just for her wrists,” Terra assured him. “And maybe I’ll make a lead for her, if I have to.”

“A lead? Like a _leash_?”

Terra shushed him, touching Ven’s lips with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t say leash. It makes it sound like we’re dealing with an animal.”

What else Ven said Terra ignored. He was tapping his fingers on the counter, waiting for the storekeeper to answer his question. Once he got the murmured answer, he counted out the appropriate amount of munny and dropped it in front of the man.

“Sir, we don’t use this . . . whatever it is.” The man pushed the pile back towards Terra.

Oh. Well, that was okay. He wasn’t mad. In fact, he hadn’t been mad ever since Vanitas had attacked him; instead, he felt great. Everything was just so _clear_. What had changed, he couldn’t place, but this entire mess, once so overwhelming, now seemed so manageable. There were no what-ifs or what-abouts plaguing his mind. His doubts, it seemed, had disintegrated into thin air. There was one thing though. The fight with Vanitas must have taken its toll on him, because he felt pretty tired.

Terra smiled. “That’s unfortunate, but I need this, so I guess I’ll be taking it.”

As he slung the rope over his shoulder, the storeowner tried to splutter a protest, only to meet the sparking tip of Earthshaker.

Over Ven’s shouts, Terra said, “You seem like a nice man, so please don’t stop me.”

That was enough. The man trailed into silence and hid behind his counter. Terra grabbed Ven, and then the two of them went back out into the streets. Terra casually pushed Ven ahead of him and then yawned widely to taste the fresh air.

“Terra, you . . .” Ven was staring at him, wide-eyed like a child.

“I don’t think we’ll need anything else,” Terra remarked. “Ready to go?”

“You just stole from that guy!” Ven blurted.

“Yeah, well, they were going to kill Aqua, remember? I think they owe us a bit of rope.” He shrugged easily. True, he thought he would have been furious over that – actually, he thought he _should_ be – but he wasn’t. He was more . . . annoyed. Exasperated.

For whatever reason, Ven didn’t seem to understand what Terra considered a rather simple explanation. The smaller boy shook his head wildly, hands clenched into fists. “Terra, you’re acting like a . . . I don’t even know if there’s a word to describe it.”

“Well, keybladers have always been unique,” he said. “Let’s suit up.”

His armour appeared in a flash, and he rocketed into the sky, Ven following after. They travelled in silence, and from time to time, Ven’s helmet would turn to face the older apprentice. Terra wondered what had him so bothered.

Both of them recognized the world Aqua had fled to: the Pridelands. Why this world out of so many other, Terra wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because Aqua was familiar with this world, because it was the only one she had visited before Vanitas had kidnapped her. It did make things a tad more complicated, if only because the rope he had bought was now useless.

Or maybe not. He took it off his shoulder and fashioned a crude lasso out of it.

“What’s that for?” Ven demanded.

Patiently, Terra said, “If we can get it around Aqua’s neck, then we’ve got her.”

He paused. Aqua would be a lion on this world. There was always the chance she’d simply shred the rope with her claws or teeth. Oh well. At least it would buy them some time.

Finding her was a little more difficult than just locating the world. They walked on and on, Terra with his Wayfinder hanging around his neck. Ven slunk at his heels, tail between his legs like a puppy that had been disciplined. Honestly, Terra had no idea what was wrong with him. He’d tried to comfort the cub with a few nuzzles, but Ven had flinched and shied away. Maybe he was shell-shocked by what had almost happened to Aqua. Yeah, that could be it.

They ran far, scattering herds of animals as they passed. He had little mind for them, only mind for the steady beat his paws drummed out against the earth. He had to check his pace, not because Ven was slower, but because the younger apprentice had to take at least twice as many strides as Terra and it must have been exhausting. Lions weren’t built for long-distance running.

He released a huge breath through his mouth as they came upon a waterhole. Ven plunged right in, paddling in a narrow circle. Terra relaxed at the water’s edge, dipping his paws in, slurping it up and savouring the chill as the liquid went down his throat.

“Terra?”

“Yeah, Ven?”

“Do you . . .” Ven gulped. “Do you want to wash the blood off?”

Blood? Oh, yes. He’d nearly forgotten about that. He still had blood on him from that incident in La Cité des Cloches. At Ven’s insistence, he slid into the water, a red mist rising from his fur. With a full fascination, he watched as it drifted further and further away, until the water diluted it so much it was no longer visible.

“Oh, that was a lot, huh?” Terra said.

Ven said nothing.

They set off again after that, still on Aqua’s trail. He kept his jaws parted, just in case her scent floated by. Would he actually recognize it, he didn’t know. But he liked to think he was at least that familiar with his friends.

By the time he did find her scent, it was unnecessary. Her aroma, like that of the ocean, was almost pungent in the mouth of the small cave they found her in, betraying that she had been here for a while. She hadn’t noticed them, fast asleep, her back to them. She was curled up, fur rippling with her breathing.

He purred. Finally, they had found her. Ven, too, seemed to have let go of whatever reservations he had possessed before. With a mew, he scrambled ahead of Terra, running towards their lost friend.

Only to stop short.

For over Aqua’s back, a black cub peered at them.

Terra snarled, though the fear or anger that would usually accompany that action remained absent. There was no need for them; he had never felt so confident before. He took his place beside Ven as the cub growled, backing away from Vanitas.

Aqua finally woke. She yawning, exposing large canines, before gently uncurling and freezing up at the sight of the other two apprentices. With her proximity to Vanitas, the scene they had walked in on became apparent: her, curled up around the black cub like his mother. Light, she was sick in the head.

“Aqua, we’re here,” Terra said softly, like someone speaking to a wounded, wild animal. “It’s okay, now.”

She hissed. _Hissed_. Her fur stood on end as she looked around the cave, searching for another way out. He didn’t get it. What was she so scared of? And then he remembered the black cub, and knew.

“We’ll protect you from him,” Terra whispered. “It’s okay, Aqua. Vanitas won’t hurt you anymore.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need protection.”

Ven choked. “Aqua, that’s Vanitas you’re with.”

She shook minutely. “I know.”

She backed away, and Vanitas stepped in front of her, back arched, teeth bared in a protective pose. Terra felt a tinge of irritation at the sight; Vanitas was standing where he and Ven should be, stealing the role they played. He didn’t like that.

“You have five seconds to leave,” he told Vanitas. But as he counted down, the dark apprentice refused to move. Terra inclined his head, growling.

Aqua asked, “Terra, what’s that?”

She was staring at his shoulder, where his mane ended and the tip of the rope swung loosely with his motion. Terra glanced at it, then at her, trying to figure out how to speak without frightening her.

But Aqua already had it figured out. Her breaths came in short ragged bursts, hot and heavy-sounding. Her claws slid in and out, scraping against the stone. Blue eyes widened, then narrowed as her teeth showed, matching Vanitas’s outrage.

He shivered, not with fear, but with the anticipation of a fight. He matched their stance, with the subtraction of his teeth, and nodded at Ven in a silent order to flank her. Yet though Ven saw his signal, the younger apprentice remained put, his legs tense in a refusal to move.

“Ven . . .”

“Terra, we’re here on a rescue mission, not a hostage-taking!” Ven cried.

“Yes, I know, Ven.”

He had turned to look at Ven, and now he saw movement in the corner of his eye. And in the small space, it was so _easy_. As Aqua bolted in an attempt to pass him, he pitched sideways, slamming her against the cave wall, feeling the air being driven out of her lungs as he pinned her. She thrashed, paws struggling to find a purchase on the rock, but he merely tilted, forcing more of his weight into her.

“Get off her!”

Vanitas lunged, snapping Ven out of whatever trance he had been in. The cubs tangled together, spitting, a whirlwind of yellow and black fur. Terra would have helped, but he still had Aqua to take care of.

“Aqua, relax.” He nearly strained his neck turning to look at her. “I’m trying to help you.”

“No! I’m not going back with you!”

He lifted his weight off her. Completely off. So suddenly, that she actually fell down. From there, it was a simple matter to grab her by the scruff.

She snarled, claws leaving marks in the ground as he hauled her back. He understood what needed to be done: force her back, keep his position between her and the exit. So long as she was in the cave, she couldn’t escape him.

She turned on him, spitting, twisting in an attempt to bite him. He cuffed her about the head, her whole body shuddering with the force. And while she laid there, dazed, he swept in and plucked Vanitas off Ven, throwing the squirming cub against the wall.

It was so easy.

He picked up the rope, letting the loop fall open. Aqua eyed it nervously, trying to inch away, but in the small space there was nowhere to go. He pinned her with his paws, dropped the loop around her head, then bit down on the lead and pulled.

Her eyes nearly bugged out as it tightened. At once, she set into it with her claws, trying to shred it, chomping down when that failed. A few more cuffs to her head took care of that problem. So easy.

He had no regrets, felt no guilt over what he had done. Everything was just so obvious to him; there were no uncertainties. A bright light had been shone over the muddled parts of his brain, the confused parts that made good actions seem grey instead. But now he could see. He was the good guy. Vanitas, the villain. And in between were Aqua and Ven, trapped in the grey haze that had once hampered him. In his noble cause of saving them, Terra could do no wrong.

“Terra,” Ven hissed, “you’re hurting her.”

“She’ll be fine.” Looking upon her fondly, he said, “She’s just woozy.”

He tugged on the leash. Aqua resisted, but when her air was cut off, she hastily got to her paws. Head bowed, trembling, she walked when Terra demanded it.

“Terra . . .” That was Ven, sounding deeply troubled.

Terra nodded at him. Through the mouthful of rope, he said, “We’ve got her.”

A chill swept over him. He swung around, coming face to face with Vanitas whose fur was standing on end, charged by the darkness swirling around him. It reared above him like a cobra with its hood spread, sending out random bolts that struck the cave’s walls. Roaring like a grown lion, he gathered it all around him, then sent it out straight at them. Terra leapt in front of Ven, bracing himself as he prepared to use his darkness as a shield . . .

Nothing. He had enough time to register that before it crashed into him.

It was cold, so cold, like falling into a lake that was frozen over. The chill penetrated through his thick fur all the way to his heart, piercing through the center like a blade made from an icicle. It hurt, really hurt, and pain shuddered up and down his bones when he tried to move. He was propelled straight over a ducking Ven, right into the wall. The impact seemed to make the entire cave shake, and dust rained down from hidden crannies.

Vanitas leapt forwards. Ven tried to stop him, but a mere swipe of the dark apprentice’s tail had a wave of darkness smashing him back. In one smooth move, Vanitas sliced through the rope around Aqua’s neck, landing in a crouch next to her. The two exchanged a glance.

And they were gone, tearing out of the cave. Terra lunged to his feet, lurching in their direction as if he and Aqua were still connected by rope. Ven had already taken off, paws moving so fast they were a blur.

Terra panted. He had always been the slowest. Even with adrenaline, he wouldn’t catch them. But no matter. He could always portal ahead of Aqua, cut her off for Ven. He raised his paw to do exactly that.

It didn’t work. He blinked, stared down at his paw, then with a huff, tried again. Again, he failed. Ears perked up in interest now, he tried again. And again.

And it never worked.

For the first time since that fight with Vanitas, his heart fluttered with fear. How . . . how could it not work? His portals were one of the first abilities he had discovered, the first he had mastered. Was it something in this world? Perhaps, lions were not able to portal? It seemed silly to him, but it could be true.

He looked out of the cave. The others would be far off by now. But maybe if he used the power of his darkness, directed the power it usually gave him to his paws, he would be able to find them.

He charged, mane fluttering wildly in the resulting wind, but the extra speed he expected failed to show. A quick check revealed no darkness at his paws, nor any that he could see.

He stopped. What was going on? Where was his darkness?

And just like that, things were no longer certain.


	43. Chapter 43

He pounded after them, swift as the wind. Although Aqua and Vanitas had the head start, Ven was catching up rapidly. He didn’t get it: why was Aqua doing this? Sure, he understood the part where she was scared of them, but he didn’t get why that meant she would allow Vanitas near her. The guy had kidnapped her, for Light’s sake, carved that deep V into her back. If he and Terra were worth being scared of, then she should have passed out at the sight of Vanitas.

He darted off to the side, preparing to pass the two. Aqua had yet to check how close he was, but Vanitas had, and his lip curled in response. Without warning, he broke away from Aqua, barrelling into Ven’s side, where the two of them tumbled across the grass. Vanitas was on his feet first, tail swaying like a snake as he planted himself between Ven and Aqua. Aqua had hesitated on losing her escort, but now she was running again.

“Get out of my way,” Ven warned.

Lions weren’t meant to sneer, but Vanitas did anyways, making the expression that much more disturbing. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he said. “You went on and on about how I had to let Aqua choose, but when she makes a choice you don’t like, suddenly everything’s different.”

“I’m not making her choose!” Ven snapped. “I’m keeping you away from her.”

“Fat chance of that.” Vanitas leaned closer, voice high with delight. “She _hates_ you, both of you! I’m the only one she trusts now.”

In a low voice, Ven said, “What did you do to her?”

Vanitas preened. “I showed her the truth.”

Ven roared. He pounced straight at Vanitas, catching the still-gloating cub by the shoulders. Thrown onto his back, Vanitas kicked out with his back legs, battering Ven’s stomach. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the claws that pricked through his skin, and slashed downwards, creating two red lines in Vanitas’s cheeks.

It only made him mad. His yellow eyes flashed, and that was the only warning Ven got before the darkness attacked. It fastened around his waist, like a bird trying to carry him off for dinner, dispelled afterwards by Ven’s light. But in that lapse, Vanitas squirmed free and dropping his weight onto his front paws like a horse, he kicked Ven in the face.

Ven stumbled back, shaking off the dizziness. Vanitas was chasing after Aqua again. A flash of anger lit the figurative flame under Ven, and then the grass passed in a blur. He leapt at Vanitas, pulling him down as if he were a gazelle.

They rolled over each other, hissing and clawing. Ven had an ear in his mouth, the fur absorbing moisture from his tongue as he hung on. His abdomen ached, flaring up with sharp spikes as Vanitas attacked.

They broke apart, strands of fur still coating Ven’s mouth. Pawing the ground like a bull, Vanitas summoned his keyblade, Ven copying. They faced off, breathing heavily.

Ven moved first. He charged, pivoting to the side at the last moment when Vanitas sprung at him. To the side of the dark boy, he lashed out with Lost Memories, narrowly deflected by a wall of darkness that came up to defend its master. Void Gear skimmed his back, rustling his fur.

He leapt back. Vanitas came after him, rearing as he prepared to bring his full weight down. Their keyblades clanged together, sparking white and black, and Ven twisted out from it, leaving Vanitas to fall onto the ground. They chased each other after that, like two kittens frolicking together, only their romp was marked by the exchange of blows.

And Vanitas got him good, right across the chin. It was enough to put Ven off-balance, for Vanitas to grab him by the head and shove him down. Teeth gleamed, and then Ven was struggling for his life, trying to keep those deadly canines away from his throat. Vanitas stared at Ven’s chest, where his heart laid, eyes lighting up with greed. Had they been human, Ven knew the other boy would be grinning.

He sent light out like a spear, nailing Vanitas straight-on. The black cub shot into the air, slamming to the ground not far away. With a grunt, Vanitas stood, blood dripping from his shredded ear.

“You’re getting better,” he said.

Coldly, Ven said, “You have no idea.”

At his urging, light poured out at him in a funnel, drilling into the dirt where Vanitas had been a moment before. Now, their parts had been reversed, with Vanitas in the role of the runner. He dodged this way and that as Ven shot beam after beam, until he was close enough to counter with one of his own.

Ven flinched as the darkness broke over him. His own beam was cut off short. Vanitas lunged, driven off at the last minute by Ven’s claws. Once again, they faced each other, waiting for someone to make the first move.

Vanitas laughed. “You’ve already lost,” he said.

Ven was about to ask what he meant, when he saw a twinkle in the sky. It couldn’t have been a star, so it must have been Aqua, fleeing the world. Which meant all of this was for naught.

“Stay away from her,” he said. “Come near her again and –”

“You’ll what?” Vanitas spat. “I don’t think you get it, Ventus. I’m not holding her hostage this time. She _chose_ to stay with me.”

“Because you messed with her mind!” he said. The wind picked up at that moment, howling in approval. “Is that what you meant to do, break her? Is that your definition of friendship?”

Vanitas flinched. “Shut up! Don’t try to turn this back on me.”

“This is your fault!” he screeched. “ _You_ trapped us in Silent Hill; you kidnapped her. You’re the one who can’t let things go!”

“You took _everything from me_!” Vanitas bellowed. He moved so quickly Ven had no time to react. Next thing he knew, he was on his back, Vanitas looming over him.

Foreheads touching, Vanitas growled, “Now I’m going to take it back.”

“What if she doesn’t want to go back?” he said icily.

Vanitas said, “She will soon.”

“So, that’s it? You’re going to make her want to go back to you.”

“I’m not going to do anything.” He sat down, tail curling over his paws. “I won’t make her want to come back, the _universe_ will. And if I have a hand in it, so what? It’s for her own good.”

“It’s for the best,” Ven echoed, horror overtaking him as he realized Vanitas was using a twisted form of his own rationalization.

“Her out there alone,” Vanitas scoffed, rolling his eyes, “it’s like throwing a puppy into a forest. We both know she wouldn’t last long.”

His eyes blazed. “She won’t last long with you, either.”

“You really think that?” If anything, Vanitas sounded offended. “She was my friend first, Ventus. I intend to keep her longer than a few days.”

“You can’t have her,” he said. “I won’t let you.”

Vanitas said, “It’s going to be pretty hard to stop me when you’re dead.”

If only Vanitas could be a little more crazy, so that he wasn’t capable of coming up with all these schemes. For just as the dark apprentice had spoken, monsters materialized all around them, bearing Vanitas’s emblem. They were almost humanoid in appearance, though alien, bearing two hands with three sharp claws on each. Blue was their colour, only denied by the red eyes and the white coating on their hands that resembled gloves. They were quite smaller than the other monsters Ven had seen, but then, he was smaller in this form, too. They were big enough.

“You need a little more than that to stop me,” Ven said. “My bond with Aqua goes deeper than that.”

Vanitas tensed. With a nod of his head, the monsters went after Ven, but he was prepared. He closed his eyes, reached for his bond with his friends and the light it provided . . .

He threw it out of him, and the shard of light took the form of Terra’s empty armour. With a thrum, it grabbed a monster by the neck, snapping it with ease. He looked at Vanitas who stood there, stunned. It probably hadn’t even occurred to him that Ven would have access to the same abilities. Then, just to thrust the knife in deeper, Ven made his creature resemble Aqua’s armour.

That got him worked up. Vanitas’s monsters paused, as if unsure whether or not it was the real thing, allowing Ven’s creature to defeat them with ease. Ven raised his chin, locking eyes with Vanitas in a clear taunt.

“You can’t have her,” he said slowly. “She’s ours.”

And Vanitas grinned, as if some long-held doubt had finally been dispelled. “ _Yours_?”

Ven froze. No, he hadn’t meant it like that! It was just . . . ugh, it was so hard to think when he was fighting with Vanitas. He was just confused. He wasn’t like that; he wasn’t Vanitas. He was just trying to protect her.

“How long until you have her eating out of a dog bowl?” Vanitas asked innocently.

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?”

“We seem awfully similar,” Vanitas said. “You like to go on about how I won’t stop until I possess her, but aren’t you the same? You don’t care if she wants to leave you for me. You’re going to _make_ her be your best friend.”

He shot back, “No, I want to fix all the damage that you’ve caused.”

“Call it what you like,” Vanitas said casually, backing into a portal, “but it still sounds like brainwashing to me.”

With those last words, he was gone, leaving Ven by his lonesome on the savannah. Terra caught up a few minutes after, but it was already too late. After Ven filled him in, the two of them stared up at the sky, hoping to see Aqua’s returning form.

“We better get going,” Terra said.

He had Earthshaker out, ready to fly. But Ven didn’t. He couldn’t meet Terra’s eyes. Vanitas’s accusations were bouncing around his head.

“Terra,” he said, “are we still the good guys?”

“Of course we are,” Terra said. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just . . .” he looked away, biting his lip. “What if Aqua really doesn’t want to come back with us?”

Terra sighed. “Ven, don’t think about it as taking her anywhere; think of it as keeping her away from danger. She’s in a fragile state, Ven. She needs help.”

“And it has to come from us? She seemed pretty sure that she didn’t want to come with us.”

Patiently, Terra said, “Ven, she’s sick. If we were anyone else, we would have shipped her off to an asylum. Her judgement can’t be trusted.”

“About anything?”

His mane rustled as he shook his head. “You saw her sleeping with Vanitas in the cave. We already know that her survival-instinct is pretty kooky as is.”

He nodded, accepting Terra’s answer. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought that he was behaving as Vanitas would, that he was, unintentionally mirroring his darker half. But no, he told himself, if he were Vanitas, he would have used his power over Aqua, his stranglehold on her heart, to control her. He would have forced her to stay with him and Terra, wiped out those thoughts that led her to run away from them, and erased those memories made her believe that Vanitas was safe, even for a moment.

He wasn’t Vanitas. He wouldn’t become Vanitas.

* * *

“Eraqus, has Terra ever demonstrated signs of a split personality?”

Eraqus didn’t say anything at first, seated at a chair by a window, holding a cup of tea so loosely that Yen Sid was just waiting for it to fall. Steam rose from the liquid, curling past his nose, doing nothing to wipe the blank look off that face. It hadn’t changed since Yen Sid had entered, nor had Eraqus said anything. Now, though he had yet to discard that expression, Eraqus finally spoke in a voice that almost creaked from lack of use.

“He has problems controlling his darkness, but never has his base character changed.”

“I would not have expected it to,” Yen Sid admitted. “Both of them would stem from the same fractured heart . . .”

He thought Eraqus’s ponytail twitched.

“I have gone over the records again.” Yen Sid shoved said reports into Eraqus’s hand, taking the tea from him. “Eraqus, has the connection between his light and darkness ever been severed?”

Eraqus shook his head, but bitterly said, “I hardly know anything about him anymore.”

“I see.” Yen Sid nodded. The corners of Eraqus’s mouth had dipped, so Yen Sid laid a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

“Terra’s heart,” he began, “I do not believe is it healthy. His light and darkness seem broken, connected by just the tiniest thread, more two separate beings than one whole.”

Eraqus was still not responding. Yen Sid sighed, and his arm dropped back to his side. “Eraqus, this is a very volatile situation.”

No answer. Seeing this was hopeless, Yen Sid made to leave.

But just as his hand touched the door, Eraqus said, “What would be the symptoms?”

Finally. Some interest. “Irregularities in behaviour,” he told the former Master, “mood swings. Depending on the severity, he could be hearing voices. It all depends on whether his light or darkness is in control at any instant, and how hard the other is fighting to be heard.”

“But are most hearts not like that?” Eraqus pointed out. “Light and darkness are constantly clashing.”

“Not like this,” Yen Sid said. “The situation is closer to how Ventus and Vanitas are. If Terra’s light and darkness have remained parted for enough time, it is quite conceivable they could begin . . . excuse my poor description . . . developing their own personalities.”

He knelt down in front of Eraqus, looking the other man in the eye. “Eraqus, this could be very dangerous, not just for Terra, but for your other apprentices . . .”

“They’re not my apprentices,” Eraqus choked out. “I do not walk that path anymore.”

There would be a time to dispute that claim, but it was not now. “Then whom would you have me go to? You _were_ Terra’s Master, my friend. No other can lay claim to that.”

“What would you have me do?” Eraqus spat. “I know not how to mend a heart.”

“Nor I. But it would be perilous not to try.”


	44. Chapter 44

Aqua was alone in Radiant Garden. It was getting late out, but she already had a room reserved. Coincidently, or perhaps not, it was the same one she, Ven and Terra had stayed in so long ago.

She frowned. How long ago had that been? She had no idea how long Vanitas had held her captive, or how long she had spent on the run from her former friends. Nevertheless, in light of everything that had happened, it seemed very much in the distant past, back when everything was right and Vanitas still a monster. Now, things had been reversed.

Well, that wasn’t fair. She wouldn’t say that Terra and Ven were monsters, nor would she claim that Vanitas was her best friend. She just . . . she needed to be alone, to figure out what she was going to do with her life. For so long, it had revolved around her friends, around her Master and becoming a Keyblade Master. That dream was in shambles now, with Master Eraqus having given up his duties, and Terra and Ven more a threat than anything else. She needed to forge a new path.

She exhaled, staring at the triple-layered fountain. She was right on the bridge, leaning on the rail, mist kissing her face. Droplets sparkled in an elaborate pattern, like the stars had come down to greet her. Between the gentle sound of the water rushing down the falls, and the wind caressing her face, she felt peaceful. Her skin glistened with moisture, and an occasional drop slid down the side of her face to be absorbed by her clothes. She didn’t mind. She had always loved water. When she was little, she’d liked to sit on the balcony whenever it thundered. That had stopped though after Ven had arrived; she hadn’t wanted him to follow her out and get sick.

She suddenly became aware of the weight against her chest. Glancing around, feeling almost guilty for what she was doing, she pulled out her Wayfinder. There, bathed in the mist, she stared at it. Although it had been shattered during her first foray to Silent Hill, it looked the same as it had always did; Vanitas had done a good job of repairing it.

She shook it, held it to her chest, hoping to see magic swirling within or feel the warmth of friendship – something to indicate that this was in her head and her bond with Terra and Ven still existed. But the Wayfinder remained silent, as always.

So, she turned to her other companion: Stormfall. Though ultimately keyblades were just a weapon and a reflection of their wielders, the Master had always told her that they were sentient in their own way. Thus, she laid it on the railing, whispering, “What do I do now?”

But just like her Wayfinder, the keyblade said nothing.

Sighing, she dismissed the keyblade and hid her Wayfinder and its chain behind her shirt again. It was getting dark. She should get back.

She walked alone, avoiding the eyes of whoever she passed. It was funny. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, didn’t have the energy, and yet she felt incredibly lonely. Her throat was cramped from lack of use. Part of her hoped that someone would stop her, ask for directions for something, just so she could speak.

She did end up getting stopped, just not the way she had expected.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

She paused, listening. The sound was coming from an alleyway a few steps in front of her. A metres in, the alley cut straight to the left, so she couldn’t see who was speaking, nor what the situation was. If her ears were anything to go by though, it had been a male.

She looked around. There was no one else here.

When the male called again, this time sounding pained, she walked into the alleyway. Heart pounding, she rounded the corner . . . to find nothing but a man on the ground. With pink hair. But she wasn’t judging.

“Are you okay?” She rushed over and knelt by him.

“I have been better.” His voice was melodic, soft, a contrast to the cloak he wore which Aqua associated with violent people. He put a gloved hand on her shoulder, wincing with pain. “I believe that my leg is broken.”

Just a broken leg? Okay, she could fix that. “Let me see,” she ordered.

She pulled up the hem of the cloak, exposing the legs. Running her fingers along the bone, she waited for that tell-tale sign, that gasp or bump that would indicate an injury. She traced the curve of the knee, started to go along the shin –

His hand tangled in her hair.

Her head smashed into the ground.

On instinct, she tried to rise, and the man immediately bashed her head into the ground once, twice. Her brain, already so bruised from her earlier ordeals, sent out the message for her body to collapse. She laid there limply, blood oozing from a gash on her forehead.

“My apologies.” As the man shifted to his knees, he leaned his weight on the very leg he had claimed was broken. “But I have my orders.”

Something settled on her back, pinning her. Long fingers played with a lock of her hair, rubbing it between two digits. “It’s a shame,” the man said. “You seem like such a lovely person. I can’t imagine why someone would want you hurt like this.”

His elbow dug into the back of her neck, nearly crushing her words before they were even said. But she managed a, “Wh-what?”

“Don’t fight.”

The words were terrifying enough, but then his fingers traced the length of her spine with sickening intent.

It all flew in front of her eyes: Angela’s father pinning her to the bed; the panic in the Station of Awakening with Vanitas –

“ _NO!_ ”

Stormfall appeared with a howl, shining so bright that the man actually recoiled. The weight on her back lifted, and she twisted, turning on him as abruptly if a switch had been toggled. Stormfall sunk into his arm, sticking like an axe in a tree, a banner of blood following when it was plucked out. The man screamed, blood seeping out from between his fingers.

And she saw nothing but red.

With a wild cry, she flung herself at him. She was tired, so tired of being bullied. By her friends, by Vanitas, by everyone. She was _done_ with this!

The first swing sunk again into the man’s arm as he tried to shield himself. The second in the same place. A tremor rocked her as the bone snapped, making her slip. Her knees landed in a puddle of blood, turning the black fabric there a dark crimson.

When she tried to gouge out his eyes with her nails, he finally found the space to take out a weapon of his own. It was a giant scythe, the blade pink, held by his unbroken arm. But it wasn’t his dominant hand, that she could tell by the shaking, and it was too heavy a weapon to bear one-handed.

“Stop!” He held a hand up, as if actually had some authority over her. “You didn’t tell me about this. This wasn’t part of the deal!”

Those last two sentences weren’t barked at her, but at thin air, presumably at the man’s employer or whatever invisible spectators there were. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. She was tired of people working for her enemies, of people like _Riku_. She just wanted this _done_. She wanted this over with!

She wanted to go home.

A blizzard spell shut him up. One knock from her keyblade, and his scythe was gone. And then she made sure that he would never, _ever_ come after her again.

Blood splattered against the alley’s walls. It gathered in a thick pool below their bodies, lapping at her thighs. And she kept swinging, each mighty blow of her keyblade creating a splash of blood and gore. Her clothes were heavy with it, as was her hair. She could taste it on her tongue. Someway along the way, she began to sob, tears turning red the second they left her eyes.

The keyblade slipped from her slick fingers. For a couple rounds after, she continued to swing, battering the man’s flesh with her fists. Then, it all caught up with her, and she collapsed. The man was no longer a body so much as he was a pile of splintered bones and shredded tissue. She curled up on what remained of his chest, and cried.

 _Killer, you’re a killer!_ a childish voice sang in her mind.

She screamed, releasing all her agony in that one sound. And what was left was something she couldn’t identify, but it made her giggle uncontrollably in a bubbling, hiccupping manner that could have just as easily passed for sobs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

She wound her arms around the cloak, around the bag of flesh, and hugged it tight. Gore oozed out the top and bottom. And she kept apologizing to the man she had hurt. Her hands glowed as she tried to heal him.

When she was discovered, the person only stayed for a few seconds before running. Then, they came back, with a crowd of others. Hunched over the body, she cringed. They couldn’t have him yet. She wasn’t done healing him.

Some left, others stayed. They tried to get closer to her, but she lashed out at them, clutching the body to herself and trying to drag her and it away. Once they stopped coming after her, once there was enough distance between them, she turned to tending to the man again.

“Aqua?”

She looked up dreamily. They knew her?

It looked to be a teen who had spoken. He was crouched, carefully avoiding getting blood on himself. Silver hair . . . it reminded her of Riku. She tensed, ready for a fight.

“It’s me, Ienzo.” When she failed to react, he said, “I’m Ansem’s son. You and your friends saved me from Silent Hill.”

They saved him? She didn’t remember, but he knew about _that_ place. Did that make him a friend or enemy?

Her head hurt.

“We want to help you, Aqua,” he said. “That’s all.”

She looked up at him with big eyes. Help her . . . they wanted to help? Yes, she could use help. It had been an awfully long time since someone had offered to help her.

She nodded, and Ienzo said, “Aeleus.”

A big man walked up to her. He gently grabbed her arm, helping her stand. It was nice not to have to do things by herself. More people should be this nice to her.

But then she looked at his face and froze. She knew him, also from Silent Hill. But while she had no harsh memories of Ienzo, Aeleus was a different story. He and Xaldin had chased Terra away, destroyed their first attempt to escape Silent Hill.

He was no friend.

As the thought ran through her mind, she began to struggle. Aeleus was strong though, like Terra and held her firmly. She smeared blood across his shirt.

Other people got close, holding something wide and white in their hands. She saw, but the straightjacket didn’t really register. She was too busy trying to escape. Aeleus continued to wrestle with her, joined by a few others.

They won.

* * *

She sat in the corner of her little cell. The attendants had been nice enough to wash the blood out of her face and hair. They’d fed her too, and gave her water. Then they’d checked her over for injuries, made sure she was okay and when someone badgered her about what had happened to the man that had attacked her, the attendants had shooed him away when she started to cry. They had been nice to her, very nice to her. So nice, in fact, when they had taken off the straightjacket and asked her to change out of her bloody clothes into some new white ones, she did it without a fuss or trying to escape.

She hummed to herself, snuggling into the corner. Dare she say it, this was kind of nice. For once, she wasn’t running away from people trying to capture her. She didn’t have to worry about what she was going to eat next, or where she was going to sleep. It was all provided. Kind of like a cruise. Yes, it was the same idea: all her needs were taken care of and all she had to do was rest, prepare for when she returned to life on her own.

_“You need someone to watch over you.”_

Maybe Vanitas had been right. Certainly, she hadn’t been this content when she had set off on her own. Yes . . . Vanitas was definitely right. She preferred it this way. It was a nice break from everything that had happened to her. She wondered briefly if she should practice magic, but quickly shut that down. She didn’t want people to attack her again. So, instead, she sat on the edge of her bed, replaying fond memories in her mind.

The lights went out.

A second later they were back, but red. Backup lights. Even within her cell, she could hear employees scurrying back and forth in the halls, other patients howling from the disturbance. She wasn’t one of them. She just tucked her knees in close to her chest. It was okay. There was still light. She was fine.

She froze when she saw shadows on the other side of the room.

And then the building was plunged into darkness.

She waited, but the backup lights didn’t come back on. Panting, she crawled off the bed and across the floor, to where she remembered the door to be. A light prickling sensation ran all over her skin, like there were a bunch of bugs crawling underneath. When she scratched at it, drew blood, they only burrowed deeper.

 _It’s okay. I’m safe_. The door was locked. She curled up against it, back meeting the hard surface. She whispered to herself in a high-pitched, rapid voice, telling herself again and again that it was okay . . .

She heard something.

She had heard lots of things since the lights went out, but this was different. This was _inside_ her room. “Wh-who’s there?” she stammered out. She made herself as small as possible. It was okay, she was okay –

Something touched her.

She screamed. Stormfall appeared in a blaze of light, driving back the darkness. She hugged it to her, practically wrapping herself around the keyblade and the light it emitted. It wasn’t enough. She could still hear things. She could _see_ them moving.

Awkwardly, still hugging Stormfall, she unlocked the door. But even when she turned the knob, it wouldn’t budge. It was blocked from the other side. She tried once, twice, three times to open it normally. Then she banged on it, screaming. Someone would hear her, they _had_ to hear her, and then they would let her out and –

Something cold brushed over her neck.

“LET ME OUT!” She threw herself bodily at the door, bouncing off. She slammed into it again, and again, then turned to her keyblade. But no sooner then she had hacked into the door the first time did a magical barrier rise up over it. It hurt to be near. When she hit it with Stormfall, her own power was reflected, sending the keyblade flying out of her hands.

“PLEASE! PLEASE, LET ME OUT! I’ll be good,” she sobbed.

She clawed at the barrier, the magic burning the flesh off her fingers. She understood now, understood _everything_. This was all a trap. They’d lured her in, just like the hunchback had, so they could hurt her. They’d left her to feed whatever monsters lurked the darkness. She was going to die. They were going to kill her this time.

She wanted Terra and Ven and Vanitas back. They were right: she was worthless by herself. She should never have left them. She was just a stupid, silly girl who couldn’t even find food on her own. They had all just tried to protect her, save her from herself. But she had ruined all that, and now she was going to die and they couldn’t help her . . .

“ _You ever need me, just call for me_.”

“V-Vanitas!” She choked out that one word that for so long, had cursed her.

The second she spoke, not one, but half a dozen Firaga spells went off. The room exploded in red light, as the fireballs floated in various areas. She could see. She could see everything. There were no monsters with her.

But an unmasked Vanitas was. Without prompting, he pulled her to him, enveloping her in a bear hug. His chin rested on her head as he rubbed her back, rocking her gently as she cried. It was the same way she used to comfort Ven.

“Shh . . .” He wiped the tears from her face. “It’s alright. I got you. You’re safe now.”

She buried her face in his chest.

He grabbed her wrists, pulled them away from her body. “The hell?”

She looked up. Vanitas was staring at her hands, which had been scorched black. Most of the flesh was missing on her fingers.

He clenched his jaw and started to heal them, and it _hurt_. But he was holding her, whispering words of comfort, so it was okay. It didn’t hurt so much when someone else was there to bear the pain with her.

“They tricked me,” she said helplessly, referring to the attendants.

He sighed. It was the saddened sigh of a parent whose child had just discovered that people lied as much as they were honest. “That’s what people are like, Aqua,” he said. “That’s what the universe is like. People are cruel. It’s why me and Silent Hill exist. If you can rely on people for one thing, it’s that eventually, they’ll betray you.”

She shivered. Though she was cradled in his arms, she still felt cold. “Even Terra and Ven?”

“Haven’t they already?” he pointed out.

She looked up at him dully. “Even you?”

He smiled. “ _People_ will betray you, Aqua. But I’m not a person; I’m a god.”

God . . . yes, he was a god. She remembered that. And that meant he was safe, right? Gods were good. Gods didn’t turn on you.

“Come on.” He stood. “I’ll get you out of here, and then leave you to . . .”

“No.”

He blinked. “No?”

She hugged herself. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

He crouched down, becoming eyelevel with her as she chewed on her knuckles. “Then what do you want?”

He was waiting for her to say it, so she did.

“I want to go with you.”

He broke out into a wide grin. “Okay. I just need you to do me one small favour . . .”

He took something out of his pocket. She stared at it. She stared at him.

Then she lifted her chin.

She let him lock the collar around her neck.


	45. Chapter 45

“Give me your other hand,” he said.

Huddled under a blanket, only her head poking out, Aqua stared at him with wide eyes. She was still wearing the white clothes from the asylum, further adding to her childish guise. Vanitas sighed, flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes, then held out his hand in expectation. Aqua hesitated and chewed her lower lip, but then delicately placed her hand in his.

“Good girl,” he murmured. He grabbed the file and then set to grounding down her nails, reducing them to a harmless state. She really hadn’t been taking care of herself. It looked like she hadn’t cut these in weeks. But that was okay. She didn’t need to worry about those things anymore. She didn’t have to worry about anything.

When he was done, he grabbed a few strands of hair in his fingers, measuring them with his eyes. “You need a haircut,” he announced.

Aqua retreated under the sheets, so that only her chin was still visible.

“Another day, right?” He chuckled and patted her covered head. It could wait. Time was on their side.

The blanket stirred as Aqua curled into a little ball. Great. She was ready to start crying. He ripped the covers off her, ignoring how she flinched with fear, and called upon an unversed to join them. The flood did so happily, curling up against her and nuzzling her neck.

Aqua didn’t seem sure what to do with it, but she was no longer threatening to cry. The unversed wriggled its way into her arms and warbled, and Vanitas felt warmth wash over his sides, as if he was being held. He would have preferred the real thing, to feel her skin against his, but he had to take baby steps first. She was skittish; a bold move could scare her away.

“I’m going to finish up dinner,” he said. He stroked her hair, drawing her attention away from the flood. “Come down in twenty minutes.”

He left her there, with the unversed keeping watch over her. Usually, on his own, he had no need for food; he simply sapped strength from the souls Silent Hill had captured. Aqua, however, wouldn’t be able to feed like that, so cooking was necessary. For now, he would take on that responsibility, but in time, it would be passed down to her. She needed to have some chores so that she didn’t feel useless.

A little past the twenty mark, Aqua wandered by. She stood in the kitchen threshold, gripping the frame, face betraying uncertainty. The flood sat patiently at her heels. Vanitas beckoned her forwards, stare acting as a command of its own.

She cautiously grabbed a plate, and then immediately sat as far away as she could.

He fought back a scowl. He ordered the flood to grab her plate, to drag it back towards him. She did nothing at first, still holding her fork as if there was food in front of her. It fell down to her pride versus her fear of him and hunger.

The latter won. She closed her eyes, and shuffled over, training her eyes on the tabletop. She reached over with her fork, and he pushed the plate out of her reach again.

“Beg,” he told her.

She didn’t seem to understand.

He grabbed her chin. “Beg.”

She ripped away from him, still avoiding his eyes, but stubbornly keeping her mouth closed. He dismissed her with a shrug and ate himself. Slowly.

He wasn’t watching her, but the flood was. So, he knew when she got antsy. It must have been hard for her to sit here, especially since he had chosen a meal that would have a very strong and delicious smell. Her filed-down nails scraped against her arms, then gripped the table. She tried to leave, once, but he simply grabbed her collar and made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere.

He glanced at her. He liked that collar. It was blue, like her eyes. That’s why he’d chosen it. Not that he’d wanted to force her to wear one – he knew it was hypocritical– but she needed that reminder that this was her decision. She’d chosen this.

In his mind, he chuckled, remembering the argument his other half always used against him. He had to give the twerp some credit: Ven was right. It was so much more satisfying when she chose to be with him. Even if she was still resisting his affections, she would eventually cave. Humans needed love. Aqua, even more so.

And finally, hunger won. Aqua shuddered, fingers intertwining, briefly touching them with her forehead. She opened her mouth –

“Look at me,” he said brusquely.

She took a deep breath, but obeyed. He met her weak gaze with his own steady one, waiting.

“Please,” she whispered, “let me eat.”

It was a start. He took his hand off her plate and let her take it. He didn’t like doing this to her, but it was necessary for their relationship to survive. Aqua had to learn to obey, to submit to him, that was the only way she would be his. Right now, she had too much pride.

And pride was a sin.

After they were done eating, he left her, went back to his Silent Hill duties. He was fairly certain she wouldn’t run away this time, at least not yet (but just in case, he didn’t bring back the doors). There, in the church, he set the stage for Alex Shepard’s journey, for the horrid truth about his brother’s death and his original purpose of a sacrifice. A sacrifice for Vanitas, of course. For whatever reason, people had gotten it into their heads that they needed to offer their children’s lives to him. Weird, but at least they weren’t like Dahlia who had tried to sacrifice her child to _usurp him_. He’d had fun arranging her demise.

Night came, and he closed Silent Hill for the day, sending Alex back to his hometown of Shepard’s Glen. He made one stop at a different world to pick up something for Aqua, then returned to her. She was in a warm, small room, in an armchair by a smouldering fire. A blanket was wrapped around her shoulders and had she been clenching a cup of hot chocolate, it would have been a very cozy scene.

“Hey, Aqua.” He crouched by the armrest. “Look what I got you.”

He pulled it out from behind his back: a jewelled leash. He had it custom-made just for her. Aqua’s lips thinned as she struggled not to speak, and the outline of her shadow was trembling. He grabbed the front of her collar, and the whole word held its breath as he brought up the leash’s hook.

He clasped the leash to her collar.

Good. Very good. She was learning that he was in charge. Once that was established, everything else would follow. He grinned and caressed her face tenderly. Once Aqua surrendered to him, utterly and without restraint, once he had torn down the last bricks of the wall dividing them, he could start to build her anew. It was all laid out before him in a shining path, even clearer than the plots he set up for the visitors to Silent Hill. The only problem was that he kept wanting to jump ahead of himself, to go straight to the ending and skip the rest. He’d have to be careful.

But he’d think about that later. It was time to sleep. He picked up her leash, tugged it once gently, sending a clear message. She stood shakily, but that was to be expected. She was still so new to this.

When they passed her room, she pulled towards it. He let her lead without a fuss, anticipation bubbling in his stomach.

At the doorway to her room, she seized up.

Her room was painted black.

When she finally started to breathe again, she hyperventilated. He watched her from behind, a dark glee seeping through him. He had to struggle to keep it off his face, just in case she looked. But her attention was solely on her vandalized room.

“Shh . . .” With that sound, he stopped her tears before they could even fall. “You can sleep in my room.”

Pulling firmly on the leash, he led her away. She followed silently, shell-shocked.

She was so easy to manipulate.

They prepared for bed. This, sleeping in the same room as him, she was highly resistant to. But he merely made a show of being okay with it, offering to bring her some tea while she thought her options over – tea that just might have had a little something extra in it. From there, getting her under the covers was merely a matter of waiting for the drugs to make her too groggy to protest.

She probably would be upset about this in the morning, but no matter. She had to realize some way or another that it was pointless to fight back.

He slid in after her, snuggling up right next to her so that his head rested on her shoulder. She made an odd noise, like someone who had been gagged, and twitched in what could have been a futile effort to pull away. Either way, he wasn’t too concerned. She’d be asleep soon enough.

He closed his eyes. This . . . this was paradise. Her warmth soaked through his body suit, kissing his skin. He dismissed his gloves, touching her arm below where the sleeve ended, savouring the feel of her skin. They were so close together; her heartbeat made vibrations in his body, and slowly his pace changed to match. Could this be any better? Even his former best memory, the one where Aqua had cuddled him after she thought Ventus had a nightmare, couldn’t compare. This time, there wasn’t any confusion whether he was Ventus or Vanitas. She knew he was Vanitas. She knew this was him. All him. Ventus wasn’t sapping away any of the warmth, of the love meant for him.

In that moment, she was his.

“Aqua . . .” He breathed in deeply. Hers was close to that unique tang of the ocean, but there was an underlying sweetness as well. She smelt of flowers, of vanilla, of everything good in the world. Fitting. She was one of the last of a species: the last of the truly good people in the universe. Poor Aqua had never wished harm upon others, had only ever wanted to do good. Her flaw was simply loving too much, of believing that everyone was as good as her. He had shown her that wasn’t true, had proven that the universe was a terrible, violent place, one not good enough for her.

But she wouldn’t have to worry about the big, bad universe anymore. He would keep her safe from all that. No more would a fist break upon her back, or bruises mar her smooth flesh; no more would her dreams come crumbling down. He would keep her safe, shelter her from all that was evil. She would be free to do the one thing she was born to do: to love.

And it would all be his.

He rubbed his forehead against her, like a cat marking its territory. Back so long ago, when Aqua and her friends had first visited Silent Hill, he had been so furious – so confused – when they’d left him. How could they betray him, deny the bond they shared? And Terra, how could the older boy have so callously taken everything from him? It was after the second incident, when Master Eraqus had stolen Aqua away, that he finally understood. He’d always assumed that when they finally came to him, Aqua would be the motherly figure she had been to Ventus; Terra, the big brother and mentor. He’d recalled the relationship Ventus had with them, and that’s what he had strived to recreate.

And that was why he had failed. Ventus was able to have those kinds of relationships, but only because he was _mortal_. He was human, but Vanitas was a god. He _couldn’t_ have the same relationship with them that they had with Ventus.

He hugged Aqua tight to him. He had been so determined to make her the shepherd, to thrust her into a position that she couldn’t handle, that their relationship had collapsed before it had even began. But now he understood. He was a god, and it was a god’s role to protect and guide, to lead his people with a firm hand. And it was the people’s duty to obey and love him. He understood that now, and so, everything had fallen into its proper place. He was the undisputed master of Silent Hill, of the Land of Departure; Aqua was here of her own free will.

And Terra? Soon, he would have Terra as well.

Soon, he would have mastery over everything.

He didn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t, not when his heart still fluttered with excitement and his stomach did happy backflips. He contented himself with listening to her breathing, fretting every time there was an irregularity. Her heartbeat remained strong, a steady pulse that seemed to urge him to sleep. He didn’t, and when the sun finally rose over the world, he wasn’t even tired.

He laid a kiss on her head, then rolled away from her. It hurt, like tearing a Band-Aid off without warning. A chunk of cold air rushed into the space against his chest that had once been occupied by her, making goosebumps erupt everywhere.

The curtains swayed in the breeze. He went to close the window, and happened to look outside. Snowflakes, almost indistinguishable from diamonds, fell from the heavens. A sheet of fresh snow had covered the town, glittering in the sunlight. The fog was light and cheery, parting willingly to reveal the sun. The light fell straight through the window and onto him, illuminating him in a spotlight. He smiled gratefully, his bodysuit growing toasty warm. Such a beautiful day. Such a perfect day. Maybe later, he would take Aqua outside for a walk.

Snapshots flashed in front of his mind, of things that were yet to be, but still so vivid that they were like actual memories: he and Aqua, exploring the wonders of Silent Hill. Though most visitors might say that the town was nothing but a nightmare brought to life, he knew that to be false. Silent Hill was terrifying, but also wonderful. To truly know beauty, you had to see the sunrise over the lake, the rainbow of colours that danced along the water’s surface; you had to hear the church bells echo across the land, welcoming the new day; see the flowers blooming in spring, reminding visitors that life was worth fighting for. For Silent Hill was just another piece of the universe, just as frightening and beautiful as the rest.

So consumed he was by those fantasies, that he almost forgot why he had left bed. Hastily, he took a camera from the closet and snapped a few pictures of the peacefully slumbering Aqua. It was one of those cameras that printed the shots immediately so within a minute, he had a few pictures in his hand. He walked into the kitchen, grabbed some food.

Then he teleported to the jail.

It was in there, in the deepest, strongest cell he had, that his second prize laid. Guarded by not just both Bogeyman, but a few bruisers as well, Terra awaited. Not the true Terra, not the whole Terra, but the embodiment of Terra’s darkness. He looked almost exactly like his original, save for the gold eyes that lacked pupils, the pale skin, and the dark veins that slithered beneath his skin. They actually moved, like worms had somehow burrowed their way beneath; but Vanitas knew better than to think that. Terra was fine. Walking on all fours, acting like a beast, but fine.

He placed his hand on the bars. “Hey, Terra.”

Hunched over in a corner, Terra growled. His golden eyes flashed as if they generated their own light.

And Terra lunged. The Bogeymen tensed, gripping their own weapons, but Vanitas remained calm. He reached out with his darkness, with his powers, gripped Terra’s darkness tight, and crushed it.

Terra’s chin crashed into the ground, as if a giant had grabbed his head and slammed it down. He moaned weakly and Vanitas, hearing that weakness, tightened his hold. Because though Terra’s darkness bested him in raw strength, it was he, not Terra, who was the god of darkness – and Terra no longer had his light to protect him. He held Terra immobile as he delved deeper, pierced through those shields around his mind.

“Here, Terra.” He stuck his hand through the bars, holding out the bun he had brought. “You hungry?”

Barely able to move, Terra hissed and turned his head away.

“Oh, Terra.” He sighed, letting his hand drop. But his surrender was only on the outside. Mentally, it was a whole other thing.

 _Why won’t you eat, Terra?_ He sent out the question like an arrow, letting the barb sink deep into the other’s mind. _I don’t want you to die. I want you to live, Terra, to be strong again . . . but first you must trust me. You must eat, Terra_.

He could feel Terra’s hunger, and stoked it the way he would a fire, fighting back a grin as the older boy’s mental struggles grew weaker.

_Please, Terra, why won’t you eat? I want to help you, Terra. I want you to grow strong. Please, Terra . . . you know I love you._

Terra groaned. He crawled over, head still turned away as if he didn’t want to be here. Vanitas held the bun right up close to Terra’s face, so close that the dark being could have easily bit off his fingers with his fangs. But Terra didn’t attack. He simply opened his mouth and took the offered food – as Vanitas knew he would. He chewed, swallowed it down, then plaintively whined for more.

And Vanitas gave him more. He kept giving more until Terra refused to accept it. Then Vanitas let him drink, waiting patiently until the older boy was done. It was so different than how it used to be; Terra was starting to _learn_. When Vanitas had first captured him, had driven Terra away from Aqua after he had gotten too aggressive, Terra’s darkness had tried to kill him, had treated him as a threat, just like his original. But now, Terra knew him as the alpha, as a food-giver, knew him as the boy that provided for him. Slowly but steadily, Vanitas was breaking down the separation between them.

And Terra knew another thing too: that Vanitas was just as dedicated to keeping Aqua safe as he was.

“Here, I brought you something,” Vanitas told him. He held out the pictures he had taken of Aqua. Terra snatched them away, holding them close to his chest as he scuttled off to a dark corner of his cell. Then, he looked through them, chittering to himself.

“See, she’s happy,” Vanitas said. “She’s nice and safe.”

Terra, on all fours like a gorilla, crawled up to the bars. Holding them in his hands, he tried to squeeze his head through, staring at Vanitas with pleading eyes. He knew what Terra wanted. Terra wanted to see Aqua, to touch her and hold her and make sure she was safe in his own way.

Vanitas wanted that too, but there was one huge obstacle: Terra himself. He was still a little too touchy-feely, a little too ill-tempered and aggressive. It wasn’t safe to let him see Aqua when she was in such a fragile state.

No matter. The time would come. Eventually.

“Not today,” Vanitas told Terra.

Terra started to complain, banging on the bars. Vanitas noticed that Terra didn’t simply reach through and attack him.

“She’s sick,” Vanitas lied. “That’s why she’s sleeping.”

Terra grumbled, but stopped acting out. He retreated back to his corner and curled up like a dog, the pictures of Aqua spread out in front of him.

Vanitas grinned. He had Aqua. He had Terra (well, half of him). Now, there was just one more thing for him to seek.

He teleported back to the castle, to the very top. From there, he could see every corner of the town, see the lake that bordered it on one side, and the mountains that blocked in the rest. The castle was right in the center of town, right next to the church, as if these two worlds had always been destined to merge together.

He looked up at the sky, sent out a silent prayer, then waited.

Above, the clouds cleared.

Kingdom Hearts awaited.

Vanitas stared up at it, jaw set.


	46. Chapter 46

The world screamed.

Mickey rolled out of bed, hand curling around Star Seeker’s handle. The walls shook; a horrible screech rang through the air. No sooner than he had taken a few steps did the earth bounce, knocking some totems from his nightstand.

“Master Yen Sid?”

He ran into the hall. The stones groaned, dust falling as they began to shift, as if a giant had taken hold of the building and was trying to move it. At that moment, what looked to be a white image of lightning snaked its way down the walls, and the building settled with a moan. Yet hardly a minute passed before the ruckus started up again.

He yelped as a the roof cracked. A chuck fell, crashing through the wooden floors. A second slam followed, the sound of Sora’s door as it flung open. The boy had Kairi in his arms, eyes wide in dismay.

“Sora, over here!” Mickey waved.

Sora tried to reach him, but another quake sent him to his knees. Kairi tumbled out of his hold, rolling to a stop right below the spot where another piece of rubble was starting to part from the rest . . .

A silver blur split the rubble, each half landing on either side of the comatose girl. Riku landed in a crouch, his bat-wing keyblade held out behind him. “What are you waiting for?” he barked at Sora. “Grab her!”

Sora obeyed, mumbling apologies to the girl under his breath. To Mickey, he said, “What’s going on?”

“Gosh, I don’t know,” was all he could say. “Have ya seen the Masters?”

“No,” Riku said.

Sora said, “It’s a good thing Terra and Ven aren’t here.”

Riku looked sideways at him. “Right,” he said curtly. “A good thing.”

Thunder crashed. In the middle of the hall, a orb of light, the only thing giving them light, bounced wildly from wall to wall. With each collision, a little more was lost. Mickey lit up his own keyblade, holding it in front of him as he ran up to the window. Outside, it was almost pitch-black. The sky churned with ugly clouds, the only reprieve being an empty space located straight above the tower. From the tower’s roof, a bolt of white light burned through another section of clouds, resonating afterwards with a loud crash.

“Come on!” Mickey cried. “We gotta get to the roof.”

He led the party up the winding stairs that shook and bobbed under them. Though Yen Sid must have been doing his best to keep the place together, debris still fell from the roof, rolling down the stairs. The smaller ones he simply side-stepped; the larger ones he froze with Stop before vaulting over them. The air was thick with apprehension, and the emotion seemed to pollute the world around them so that everything grew darker.

“Riku!”

“Huh?” Mickey looked down the stairs. Sora was stumbling down them. Riku was nowhere to be seen. “Sora, what happened to Riku?”

“I don’t know!” Sora cried. “I looked behind, and he wasn’t following us. I got to go get him!”

“Wait!” He reached out, as if he could grab Sora and stop him from leaving. But the other boy had already descended into the dark.

With a groan, he went after Sora.

He landed at the bottom in a crouch, looking around. The orbs had gone out completely now, and only his keyblade lit the way. In the shaking, vibrating cloak of darkness, he could see no sign of either Sora or Riku. He swallowed hard, and then ran through the tower in search of them.

“Gah!”

He fell back onto his bottom, behind a corner he had nearly darted around. Stomach in his throat, he crawled forwards, peeping around the bend.

Yep, he had seen correctly. A small creature, not much larger than himself, stalked forwards. It had no eyes to see with – it had no head to _survive_ with. Yet it was still moving, still avoiding the walls and other obstacles. It was reddish-brown in colour, like rust, furred, like a decapitated teddy bear. Three long prongs extended from either hand, ending just a few inches from the ground.

Mickey stepped into the open. “Who are ya?” he demanded.

The creature did not answer in coherent words, but in a mumble. It demonstrated no fear towards the keyblade, raising its arms, pointing those claws right at him.

Mickey stepped back. “Last warning!” he said. “Stop right there.”

The hiss and pop of steaming water. Then, a giggle.

“I warned ya!”

The tip of his keyblade exploded into light. If this creature was really a good fella, it would mostly be unscathed. But instead it moaned loudly, holdings its hands in front of its nonexistent face. Mickey held his keyblade out in front of him, warding the creature back as he passed it; it wasn’t a heartless, that he could tell, so he didn’t want to destroy it until he knew what he was dealing with.

A mumble. From behind.

He swung around, blocking the claws of another mumbler just in time. And the second the light was off it, the other one began to move. Caged in from both sides, he knew a second of panic, but quickly shook that off. One flare later, and both creatures were recoiling, letting him lithely slip by.

“Sora! Where are ya?”

His words were drowned out by air sirens.

Something metallic scraped against stone.

The very sound made his fur stand on end. Behind him, the creatures mumbled rapidly, shrinking away, to his surprise. The walls seemed to be leaning outwards, as if making room for something.

“Wh-what’s happening?”

The light from his keyblade dipped up and down as the ground shook. The walls buckled, tilting to the side, before suddenly straightening up again. And the wooden floors were beginning to rot, spreading outwards from the wall, before suddenly reverting back to its regular state. Another white bolt ran through the building, radiating energy so powerful that Mickey felt like he was going to levitate right there.

He staggered back, looking around. He knew that was Yen Sid’s magic, countering whatever evil had gripped this place. But that didn’t mean they weren’t in danger.

He cupped his hand around his mouth. “Sora, can ya hear me?”

Nothing at first. Then a crash.

And a high-pitched scream.

“Sora!” Without any concerns for his own safety, he ran towards the sound. He stepped upon what seemed to be a few cockroaches along the way and with a grimace, kept going.

And he found Sora in Yen Sid’s office, backing slowly towards the doorway. His back was to Mickey, and Kairi’s legs and the side of her head protruded past his arms. Beyond him, loomed a giant shadow. Mickey could not tell what it was at this angle.

“Sora, what is that?” Mickey knew without asking that shadow was alive. He could feel it, his insides were trampling over each other in an effort to get away. Every instinct he had, every cell of his body, wanted to _get away_.

He aimed his keyblade up above Sora’s head, lighting up the area. Light glinted off a rusty sheet of metal.

No. Dear Light, no.

He knew what that was.

“Sora!” he shrieked.

It broke Sora out of his trance and he scrambled away from the Bogeyman, holding on tight to Kairi. Mickey leapt in front of him, barring the entranceway with his body, denying the Bogeyman passage to Sora. The monster just watched this all silently, as if it was nothing but an elaborate statue. Time itself held its breath. A steam of hot air rising from his mouth, fur still prickling and his heart rapping out a swift rhythm, Mickey waited. He and Sora were on their tiptoes, watching.

The Bogeyman moved.

“Run!” Sora shouted.

He took off and Mickey, unburdened, easily overtook him. “This way!” he shouted.

He led Sora back to the hall with the mumbling creatures. They were more of them, a lot more, but they all scattered, as keen to get away from the Bogeyman as they were. It became a matter of pushing and shoving, of forcing their way past the creatures and accidently cutting themselves on their claws.

The tower shook with the Bogeyman steps.

At the base of the stairs, Sora hesitated. “Riku . . .”

“We’ll have to get him later!” Mickey said. “We need to get Kairi out of here.”

“But-!”

 _Screeeech_. The Bogeyman was right there, dragging its knife behind it. In the light their keyblades offered, they could just make out its muscled limbs, the tattered edges of its apron, the tip of that helmet. It was all the persuasion Sora needed.

“Come on!” Mickey cried.

They ran up the stairs. Around midway, Mickey had the surreal sense they weren’t moving anymore. The stones to their sides weren’t changing, the steps remained the same. How . . .?

The wood snapped. Before their astonished eyes, an entire section of the stairs collapsed, falling into the darkness below. Mickey stopped himself right at the edge, arms held out for balance. The gap was too wide to leap.

“Sora, you’ve got a glider, right?” When Sora nodded, Mickey quickly leapt onto his. “Alright, give me Kairi.”

For Mickey, since he was miraculously even shorter than Sora, holding Kairi was a real strain on him. He had to change his stance, wrench his back straight and puff out his chest. But he wasn’t going to let her fall. No, he would keep her safe.

With his feet, he directed the glider to where the stairs began anew, shouting encouragement to Sora. Sora transformed his keyblade into a glider, stepped on and took off –

Only to jerk to a stop in midair.

“Sora, no!” Mickey screamed.

The Bogeyman had hold of the end of Sora’s glider. With his arms occupied with holding Kairi, Mickey could do naught but watch as the glider and its passenger were dragged backwards. Before Sora could even scream, a huge hand closed over his head, squeezing –

A huge ball of light slammed into the Bogeyman’s chest, sending it falling back. It let go of Sora, and boy and glider tumbled down, down –

A blue lasso wrapped itself around Sora’s midsection. Glowing with power, Yen Sid grunted and hauled Sora up, back towards safety.

“Quickly!” the old wizard ordered. “To the rooftop.”

Mickey dashed past him with Kairi, sure his Master could handle anything.

Eraqus was already there, mouth open in awe as he observed the raging storm above. There was an orb of some sorts in the sky above them, sending out white bolts to keep the dark clouds back, the only thing stopping them from encasing the world. Surrounding the tower seemed to be a twister, heavy with flora and earthy materials. Whether it was created for an offensive or defensive means, there was no telling.

“Master Eraqus, what’s going on?” he asked.

In a hoarse, barely working voice, Eraqus said, “Silent Hill.”

Mickey blinked then took a second look. Save for a radius around the tower, the whole world was dark. The train station was warped and decayed, the plants black and rotten. The sirens continued to howl, though he could see no sign of their source.

“How is this happening?”

Tone dead, Eraqus said, “Look up.”

He did. He could see nothing but that orb defending them.

Wait, there was a flicker of light past it. He moved away from the center, placed himself near the edge so he could see.

And see he did.

“Kingdom Hearts,” he whispered. “How?”

“Vanitas, that’s how.” Mickey jumped at the sudden sound of Riku’s voice. “Hey, I’ll take care of Kairi, now.”

“Riku, you’re safe!”

“Yeah, sure.” He sounded distracted as he took Kairi. “Where’s Sora?”

“Right over there.” He beckoned at the entrance to the rooftop, where Yen Sid and Sora had just emerged. Sora didn’t look injured, to his relief.

“Riku!” Sora nearly threw himself at his friend, but spotted him holding Kairi just in time. “I thought you were still down there.”

Riku shrugged and flicked some hair out of his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, Sora.”

As Sora protested his friend’s sentiment, Mickey walked over to Yen Sid, and asked, “Master, what do we do now?”

Before anyone could answer, an eerie laugh caressed the back of his neck.

They all spun around. There, in a shadow that was slowly rising above the ground, a shadow that was sprouting arms, was the source of all this evil. His helmet solidified first, gleaming with a crescent of light. Next came the red markings, appearing first at his chest and blooming outwards, like blood being pumped through his veins. Then came the rest, and Vanitas, Ven’s dark half, stood before them, arms crossed behind his head.

“Vanitas.” Yen Sid’s voice rolled like thunder. “I’d advise you vacate these premises at once.”

“Or else what, old man?” Vanitas sneered. “Face it: you’re helpless!”

Yen Sid’s stern expression didn’t waver. “I will warn you once, Vanitas. No matter your power, I can still defeat you.”

“Yes, yes, I _know_.” Vanitas dismissed the threat with a flick of his wrist. “Even now that I have Kingdom Hearts on my side, you would probably win.”

What? Mickey and Eraqus exchanged a look, silently communicating their horror. _Kingdom Hearts_? Vanitas had Kingdom Hearts on his side? It would explain why the source of all hearts was hanging above their heads right now, but _how_?

Vanitas stepped forwards. “But at what cost?” he said. “Sure, you’d win in the end, but how many lives would be lost in the process? How many worlds would our fight destroy before you finally slayed me?” He laughed hysterically, body shaking. “I know your little secret, Yen Sid. You’re _too_ powerful. You can’t do anything!”

Vanitas’s hyena-like laugh could be heard a mile away. As if responding to his glee, Kingdom Hearts swelled, seeming to take up the entire sky.

“But you will not go unchallenged!” Eraqus shouted.

“What, by you?” the masked boy scoffed. “The disgraced Master who isn’t even a real Master? Get real!”

Eraqus’s face twisted in outrage, but before he could attack, a shadow rose behind Vanitas, indistinct in form . . .

“N-no.” Eraqus took a step back. “You cannot be here. You’re dead.”

“Eraqus?” That was Yen Sid, watching the scene in utter confusion.

“I destroyed you!” Eraqus howled. “I killed you!”

He was shouting at nothing, gaze fixed on the shadow lurking behind Vanitas. Vanitas stood there with his arms crossed, calmly observing. When he stepped aside, leaving the shadow there, Eraqus’s eyes did not follow him.

“You’re next, Sora,” Vanitas said, holding out his hand to the boy.

Yen Sid thundered, “That is _enough_!”

What looked to be a column of light erupted from the roof’s center. It stayed there for a moment, then rapidly expanded outwards –

The world went white. When it cleared, Vanitas was gone. And everything was quiet.

“Master, did you beat him?” Mickey asked.

“No,” Yen Sid said. “He fled before I could. Now there is a task I must ask of you. Lock this world’s keyhole. I will shield this world.”

The wizard looked sideways at Eraqus and said, “I am afraid Ventus will no longer be able to seek haven here.”

Eraqus swallowed. “I understand.”

There was a huge boom. The tower swayed, making them all wobble.

“He has returned,” Yen Sid said. “Go, quickly now. I will use my powers to guard you against the effects of Silent Hill. Vanitas . . .”

“I will hold him off for you,” Eraqus said. Contrary to what Mickey would have thought, he did not seem broken, simply angry.

“Are ya sure?” Mickey asked.

Yen Sid glared, as if annoyed he had to ask. “Go, all of you.”

With that dismissal, Mickey, Sora and Riku ran down the stairs, leaving Kairi’s unconscious form with Yen Sid. Mickey led; he knew the way. He had discovered the keyhole once, accidentally while playing around with magic. It was the reason Yen Sid had considered that he might be capable of wielding a keyblade.

He moved faster than he ever had before, skirting around edges and leaping over rubble. Sora and Riku were right at his heels, their breathing cutting over his. Finally, they were there, and Mickey stopped in the doorway, twirling his keyblade.

He was about to step forwards when Riku said, “Wait!”

“Huh?” Both Mickey and Sora said that, staring at the tallest boy.

“If there’s a trap or ambush set up, it’s probably here,” Riku said. “Mickey, you’re the strongest of us. Stand guard with Sora. I’ll lock the keyhole.”

It made sense. It was an awful good thing that Riku was thinking like that. With a brisk nod, he stepped aside, letting Riku pass. Then he set to scanning the darkness, just waiting for any trace of movement.

“Have ya found the keyhole?” he asked.

“Yes,” Riku said.

“Okay, just point your keyblade at it, turn it to the left, and we’re all set!”

He braced himself. Riku was right. If they were going to be attacked, it would be now.

Seconds passed. A minute passed.

“Riku, are you okay?” Sora asked. Both he and Mickey turned, spying their silver-haired companion with his head bowed. “Riku?”

Riku turned his head, single eye glistening. Then, his face hardened and he raised his keyblade.

And he turned it to the _right_.

“N-!”

He didn’t get a chance to finish that word. The second the keyhole was unlocked, a fountain of darkness gushed from it. He and Sora were swept right off their feet, dashed against the opposing wall. Riku stood calm amidst it all, only being forced into a crouch.

“Riku!” Sora leapt to his feet. “What are you doing?”

Riku looked at them, really looked at them, and Mickey was shocked to see him tearing up. “I’m so sorry, but I have to do this.”

Wood creaked. Riku jumped, as if hearing a voice, and then held out his hand to Sora. “Sora, we have to go.”

“N-no.” Shaking his head Sora backed away until he bumped against the wall. “Riku, how could you?”

The tower rocked.

“Sora, hurry!” Riku sounded frantic.

“Yes, Sora, come join us.”

The sinister hiss slithered out from behind Riku and into their eardrums, making itself a happy home there. From behind Riku, Vanitas stepped out. He wore no mask now, and . . . Mickey looked from Vanitas to Sora. They were almost identical.

Vanitas gracefully stepped in front of Riku, pushing the older boy’s arm aside. Then, the dark-haired boy held out his hand, just as Riku had, crooking his fingers.

Sora went rigid. Then, dreamily, as if his mind wasn’t truly there, he moved forwards. He lurched towards Vanitas like a puppet with its strings being pulled.

“Sora, no!”

Mickey ran forwards. No, Vanitas couldn’t have Sora, too. He was going to stop this here, before Vanitas ruined any more lives . . .

Something smashed into him, throwing him away from Sora. Whatever had happened, it was enough to free Sora from whatever had trapped his mind. The brunet blinked, staggering as if drunk, barely evading Riku’s hands. Sora reeled backwards, staring at Riku with nothing less than horror.

“Riku . . .”

“You’ve missed your chance,” Vanitas said to the silver-haired boy. “Let’s go.”

Darkness rose, and when it disappeared again, Riku and Vanitas were gone.


	47. Chapter 47

Everyone saw it: a giant explosion of light that left them all temporarily blind. Then, a few minutes afterwards came the shockwave, knocking them off their feet, shattering windows in their panes and flattening plants to the ground. The sun throbbed an angry yellow, occasionally disturbed by a red tinge.

Ven picked himself off the ground. “What was that?”

Terra, heavier, was slower to stand. Popping his back, the older boy said, “No idea.”

Not far from the sun, about a finger-length away, was a bright white circle. It was like the moon had a kid and it had come outside to play. The circle did not move, did not do anything exciting, but Ven couldn’t look away; it felt like something pulled at his soul, sinking its claws in deep . . .

He shook the feeling off. Terra was still enthralled, mouth hanging open stupidly. A kick from Ven woke him up.

Terra rubbed his ankle. “Fine. Let’s keep going.”

They’d taken five steps when a blanket of darkness spread over the world.

The sun was still in the sky, but it was like its light had been restricted to that one area. The land was dark, too dark to see their shadows, and the heavens were more like night than afternoon. Stars could be seen, twinkling in the deep.

Then, light. Not from the sun, but from straight above. Terra and Ven exchanged a glance, then as one, looked upwards.

There, Kingdom Hearts greeted them.

The heart-shaped moon was a gentle yellow in hue, sides smooth and soft like it had been carved out of soap. Rays of light emerged from the celestial body, making streaks of yellow in the black sky. They weren’t the only ones. More streaks, white ones, followed the stars, making a tail for each.

“Terra, are those shooting stars?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Terra said. The older boy’s eyes were wide with alarm.

The stars continued to descend. He and Terra watched for a couple of seconds, and as the stars continued to fall, it became apparent something was horribly wrong.

“Go!” Terra pushed Ven ahead, breaking into a run.

The two of them charged through the world, looking for shelter. The shooting stars weren’t just massed in one general area, but everywhere, coming from all sides. Were they actual worlds, comets, meteors? Who knew? Either answer would be dangerous.

“Under here!” Terra led him under a stone bridge, where they huddled by the base of its arch. Ven had his back against the bridge, and Terra was in front of him, one hand on either side of his shoulders. Cautiously, the older boy peeked at the sky, then withdrew to safety.

“They’re getting closer,” Terra said in a whisper.

“No kidding.” Ven tried to see for himself, but Terra roughly shoved him back.

“Ven, I think we’re going to need a shield,” Terra said.

He understood. Magic flared to life inside of him, filling his fingertips in preparation.

They weren’t sure how long they waited, waited for the impact. Their bodies were coiled and stiff, like a compressed spring. Terra’s veins popped out, wrapping around hard muscles. Damp spots were under his armpits, and occasionally a drop leaked out from under his shirt.

“Do you think we’ll need armour?” Ven asked.

Terra jumped, as if waking. He nodded, muttering, “Probably not a bad idea.”

The metal shells appeared in a flash, sealing them from the outside world. It was weird looking at Terra now, seeing that sleek helmet utterly devoid of any human emotion. It felt like he was back in Maleficent’s dungeon, watching that dark beast stalk towards him. Sure, this was – that had been - Terra, his best friend in the entire world, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. Certainly not. He and Aqua knew very well that sometimes the greatest threat to their wellbeing was the one who loved them the most.

Aqua. Just thinking her name made him flash back to his encounter with Vanitas in the Pridelands, to the things Vanitas had said and how they had been found together. . .

“What’s going on with Aqua and Vanitas?” Ven demanded. His armour screeched shrilly as his fingers came together, curling into a fist. He like to think that he was usually pretty calm, but the idea that Aqua and Vanitas were travelling together, that Aqua was letting Vanitas trail her . . . how was he supposed to deal with that?

Vanitas had to be threatening her. He had to be.

“She’s sick in the head, Ven,” Terra reminded him. “For all we know, she thinks Vanitas is actually _you_.”

“You think so?”

“Anything’s possible,” Terra said. “Anyways, we have to get her –”

A boom. This was the moment they had awaited. Ven’s back smacked into the stone as Terra forced himself against him, trying to cover him as thoroughly as a blanket would. He could hear it in the distance: a thrumming, the buzz of an approaching windstorm.

“Terra?”

“We’re going to be fine.” The armour made Terra’s voice echo slightly. “Just hang tight.”

In the space between Terra’s neck and shoulder, sat a sliver of the outside world. Ven squinted, making use of the tiny space, seeing beyond what Terra wished him to see. At first, he just thought there was a cliff all along the horizon, something like that. But as time passed, it only grew larger and larger, reaching up into the sky, in a murky, brown wave. And then he realized it was no cliff.

“Terra!” he squeaked.

Pebbles bounced along the ground.

Terra barked, “Shields now!”

The Reflect spell shimmered to life just as the wave broke over them. Currents of dust and dirt flew all around them, like they were in a bubble in the middle of floodwaters. Awe-striking, it was; he couldn’t even see the bridge anymore, only the parts that were encased within the spell.

 _Crack_. His entire body jolted as something crashed into the barrier. So, it wasn’t just dust hidden within this cloud.

And humming. He heard humming. Like a rundown generator finally coming to life, it started faint and quickly grew. His jaw, muscles tightened, every part of his body bracing itself for whatever would follow.

The air crackled. Suddenly, it was not just a swirling mass of brown, but black and white, too. Sparks cracked against the barrier as forks of black and white lightning slammed against it, each one producing a snap like a whip. They were everywhere, so bright that the sight was engraved in his eyes even after they disappeared. With each bolt, another fiery pain ran up his arm; with each bolt, a little more energy was taken from him.

Still, he thought he would last. He wasn’t alone; Terra was by his side and Ven bet he wasn’t bothered at all.

And it all came crashing down.

He felt it in his heart: encroaching darkness. He, being pure light, had what basically amounted to an allergic reaction: his chest tightened, constricting his airway, until he wheezed. His throat and lungs reacted to the unwanted visitor, itching as they seemed to swell. He coughed, spat up a bit of bile, legs twitching with adrenaline.

Through it all was pressure around the barrier. Like a giant had stepped on it, the barrier was straining against the ground, carving a thick groove. Then, all gone. A calm.

That just terrified him, because didn’t the tide always drop before a tsunami?

Just as he finished that thought, a force too great to be denied ripped the barrier to shreds. Ven shrieked, hearing debris clink against his armour, which groaned as the unseen force battered it. If it hadn’t been for Terra’s arm, he would have been blown away with everything else.

Against his back, he felt the bridge shift.

He had one moment of horror, one moment to warn Terra before everything went to hell.

* * *

When Terra finally woke, he hurt everywhere. He was still wearing his armour, but it felt odd, wrong. Hard points were digging into his flesh, points from where the metal had been dented. How . . . ? What . . .?

He was laying on his belly, splayed out, legs almost together and arms above his head. When he opened his eyes he saw naught but darkness. The prongs of his helmet scraped against something when his head turned, making a sound eerily similar to that of the Bogeyman’s knife.

“Ven?” he croaked. “Are you there?”

He couldn’t feel Ven, though granted, he couldn’t feel anything when he was in his armour. Nevertheless, the younger boy wasn’t answering. Terra squirmed, trying to stand, only to be denied. Every way he moved caused another piece of him to brush up against something solid. He froze, mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton, palms digging into the ground as he tried to arch.

He got up an inch. Only that.

“Ven? Ven!” Panic crept into his voice now. He couldn’t move. He was trapped. Ven was too, or worse. He arched again with herculean strength, arms shaking, legs aching.

Nothing. The damn weight on top of him didn’t even budge. He collapsed, breathing heavily. Already, the inside of his helmet was hot and humid. What if he suffocated? Then what? No, he had to stop thinking about that – of course there would be air flow. His worry would be more about starving, or dying of dehydration.

He swallowed. Either of those would require him to be down here for _days_ . . . not going to happen. He just needed to think. Yeah, rest a bit and think. He’d figure something out.

But Ven, he must have been down here, too! Terra told himself that it was okay Ven hadn’t answered, that the boy probably hadn’t woken up yet. He was younger. His recovery should take longer. Still, pinned down in his armour in the dark, he had nothing to do but worry. Maybe Ven had left . . . no, that couldn’t be. Ven wouldn’t ditch him. He was much too loyal for that.

“Ven? Are you there?” Terra had been right next to him, hadn’t he? Maybe if he dug, reached down a little . . . no, his arms couldn’t move. Okay, feet then? No, they didn’t have the leverage. He couldn’t dig, he couldn’t find Ven. He couldn’t do _anything_.

He cleared his throat, licking cracked lips. Man, it was hot . . . there had to be circulation, right? There was no way that a bunch of rubble would align perfectly as to seal air inside.

But his armour . . .maybe that was why it was so heated. But no, he’d spent longer encased in it when he had travelled though space. So, was the temperature the result of being buried then? Maybe he was so deep air simply couldn’t reach him.

_Don’t think about that, focus . . ._

On what? The gloom surrounding him? The rubble holding him in place? The temperature that seemed to be steadily rising or the missing presence of his friends? Each topic made him more and more lightheaded, until he rocked in his armour, barely able to feel his own body.

“Hello? Anyone? Can anyone hear me?”

Water dripped.

 _Okay, calm down._ He shut his eyes. There had to be a way out, had to be had to be had to be –

“Ven, answer me! Where are you?”

His cries echoed in the deep, like the wails of a long-forgotten ghost.

No, no. He had to think. Just calm down and think, just . . . relax.

There was nothing but his own breathing.

Then, scraping.

“Hello, is someone there?”

A pause. Then more sounds, more frantic than before.

Someone had heard him. The realization stuck him like an arrow, going straight to his core. He continued to shout, urging them, voice taking on a breathless excitement as the weight upon him lessened –

Light. Oh, beautiful light.

He helped all he could to unbury himself, shaking the specks off his head, flailing his arms like a man just learning to swim. He had yet to see his saviour, but whomever it was, Terra loved them already.

Now, if only they would rescue Ven, too.

Another piece was lifted off, and he could move again. He didn’t bother to wait, just powered through the rest, rising in a shower of dust. He stood there, head bowed, resting. Then, his hand clapped down on his armour piece, leaving him vulnerable again, and he nearly swooned as cool air rushed in.

A hand touched his shoulder, squeezed.

“Thank you,” Terra said. He turned to see his rescuer –

Grey eyes.

Eraqus’s eyes.

The standoff was quiet and tense. Eraqus stood there with his mouth half-open, frozen like a rabbit who had just spotted a predator. Terra could feel muscles sticking out on his back, rock-hard to the touch. The two words he had just said left a bitter taste on his tongue now.

“I got him! I got Ven!”

Terra ripped his eyes away from Eraqus, turning to Sora who was hauling an unconscious Ven out of the rubble. Terra staggered over but only looked, afraid that if he touched Ven, the small boy would break. He looked so innocent when he slept, like a baby tucked into his cradle. Only this baby was wearing armour instead of pyjamas, armour dyed grey with dust.

When Eraqus leaned down, dismissed Ven’s armour, _touched_ Ven, Terra had to hold himself back. Even though intellectually he knew Eraqus was an ally, his first instinct was still to attack. It wasn’t the same as before though, not the primal, all-consuming need to rip Eraqus apart and protect Ven. It lacked the anger, the . . . _passion_ he’d had before.

His darkness . . . he hadn’t thought about that in some time, but if Ven and Vanitas’s separation was anything to go by, it would be back.

“He’s alive,” Eraqus said. He lifted the boy gently up into a sitting position. Ven’s head flopped back, limp.

“Is he hurt?” Terra asked, kneeling next to him.

“He will heal,” Eraqus said. “But what of you? Are you hurt?”

Before Terra could say anything, Eraqus touched his forehead and something refreshing pulsed through his skull. Terra blinked, marvelling in the relief of the headache he hadn’t even known he had. He and Eraqus locked eyes again.

“Let’s get out of here,” Terra grunted, training his eyes ahead.

Still looking at him, Eraqus nodded.

Where they were going, Terra didn’t know, but Eraqus and Sora seemed to know. So, their party moved onwards, left footprints behind them in the sea of dirt. The sky was still unnaturally black, the sun blotted out by Kingdom Hearts, but no longer were stars around it. No, the rest of the sky was a disturbing void. Empty.

“What’s going on?” Terra asked.

Eraqus took a deep breath. “Vanitas has somehow unlocked the powers of Kingdom Hearts.”

“Kingdom Hearts?” Terra stopped, spinning so fast that he nearly slapped Sora in the face. “How? You need the X-Blade for that, and there’s no way he could have it; Ven’s still here!”

In that moment, Eraqus looked very, very old. “I don’t know.”

Could things get worse? Every time it seemed, Vanitas dragged them down deeper than any could have imagined, grew more powerful then what should be possible.But super-powered or not, Vanitas had to die. This he knew with a scary certainty.

“So, what’s all this about?” Terra asked, beckoning to the sky. “Where are the worlds?”

“There are no more _worlds_ , Terra,” Eraqus said. “Only a _world_.”

Terra gaped. “A world? But the worlds have been separate since . . .”

 _Since the Keyblade War_. _Since the X-Blade was first forged._

“It is the power of Kingdom Hearts,” Eraqus lamented. “Vanitas has placed these worlds together for one reason only: now, Silent Hill reaches everywhere.”

“What?” Terra immediately scanned the area, expecting fog to rise from the ground.

“No one is safe now,” Eraqus said in a hushed voice. “Every heart within this universe is his to invade. All he has to do is reach into a person’s soul, call them, and they will go to meet their doom within Silent Hill.”

Terra frowned. “You . . . you sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

Eraqus winced. Next to him, Sora’s lips thinned as his jaw tightened.

Eraqus said, “He has tried to call both me and Sora, but we have been to Silent Hill once before, and the knowledge of its contents have allowed us to resist. Still, I feel him sometimes, groping around in my skull, I . . .”

Colour had drained from his face. While he was speaking, one of Eraqus’s hands had settled on his opposite elbow, rubbing. The skin there was red from his attention, white where his nails had left scratch marks.

“Eraqus?”

Eraqus did not react, but Sora did. The boy jerked, grunting, falling sideways into the former keyblade Master. Sora bounced off him like a wall.

“Eraqus?” Terra waved his hand in front of the man, but Eraqus’s eyes remained glassy. He seemed to stare right through Terra, at something far, far away.

“Eraqus!” Terra shoved the older man, finally getting a reaction. Eraqus drew in air greedily, breath hitching, moving with a twitchy, frightened gait. His gaze was focused on nothing in particular.

“Hey!” Terra snapped his fingers in front of Eraqus’s nose.

Eraqus shook himself like a dog. “I-I . . .” He looked at Terra the same way a terrified child looked at their parent. “I can hear him.”

A chill swept over the group, as if the mere discussion of Vanitas was enough to summon him. Maybe it was, for Terra remembered what had happened in Brookhaven, where a mere mention of Vanitas’s name had been enough to trigger an attack. But that had been back in Silent Hill, where they were under his power . . .

But if Silent Hill was everywhere . . .

“I’m going to stop him,” Terra said. “I have to.”

Eraqus nodded. “I know.”

For the third time, their eyes met. For the first time, Terra did not feel the urge to look away. Eraqus’s words haunted him, words that he hadn’t really paid attention to before, but now were sinking in.

“You’ve been to Silent Hill,” Terra said. “When?”

The pallor of Eraqus’s face was such that an outsider might have thought he was dying. “While you and Ventus were absent, Aqua, she . . . she ran away.”

“I know,” Terra said curtly. “She found us.”

Eraqus winced, waiting for a tirade. But Terra said nothing, merely waited.

“Yes, and for a while I searched for her, but then I sensed something amiss back home. I returned, and what I found was my land in ruins, that a town lay where there had been none before. I met him – the one you call Vanitas – and he told me to leave. But I could not. I could see in the way he spoke, moved, that he had won some great victory. And I knew he must have Aqua.

“Against his wishes, I remained. Several times, he tried to drive me away, but I would not listen. His determination only made me more certain he had captured her, so I persisted, and I . . . I saw things.” Eraqus’s hands curled into fists, shaking. “Horrible things. Impossible things. Things that a mind could hardly fathom let alone create.”

“Yeah, Vanitas is a real piece of work,” Terra spat.

“He is going to try and call you,” Eraqus warned, “just as he had done to us.”

Eraqus nodded at Sora, who wrapped his arms around himself. It was then that Terra noticed just whom was missing.

“Where’s Riku and Yen Sid’s apprentice?”

“Vanitas nearly succeeded in plunging the Mysterious Tower into darkness. Yen Sid and Mickey are repairing the damage so that they may create a safe haven,” Eraqus said.

Terra heard what he was really saying. Yen Sid was preparing for him and Ven to lose. “And Riku?” he asked.

“He betrayed us,” Sora whispered. “He was working with Vanitas all along.”

Terra wished he could be stunned, but anger was more the realm of darkness, not light. If anything, he felt tired, jaded. “Then I guess I’ll be taking care of him soon,” Terra said. “And Vanitas.”

“We will,” Eraqus corrected. Beside him, Sora’s eyes closed.

“Are you nuts?” Terra demanded. “Vanitas –”

“I’ve been just as hurt as you guys,” Sora said. “I have as much right as you to go.”

“You need not do this alone, Terra,” Eraqus said.

Terra looked at them, really looked at them. There stood Eraqus, a man so destroyed by his trials that he had wanted to give up the one thing he had dedicated his life to; a man who had spent months walking on eggshells around his own apprentices. Then, Sora, the boy whose had been tortured twice by Silent Hill; who Terra couldn’t think of without picturing a trembling mouse.

He had never seen such courageous people before.

“If that’s what you want,” he said. “I won’t stop you.”

Ven finally woke up, moaning, blinking owlishly. “What’s going on?” he asked.

They filled him in.


	48. Chapter 48

Three weeks. It took them three weeks to find Silent Hill.

Vanitas’s act of combining the worlds had made the layout crazy. Maps no longer worked; portals didn’t go where they should; there was no rhyme or reason determining what town lay next to another. Those towns, too, were in chaos. Fishermen were finding their workspace inhabited by mermaids, bows were going up against guns. It was an absolute mess, a catastrophe waiting to happen. And there was nothing they could do about it.

Nothing but stop Vanitas, of course. Ven gritted his teeth as they marched, following the invisible chord that attached him to Silent Hill. Once Vanitas was gone, everything would go back to normal. Sure, everyone would know about the other worlds, but they wouldn’t be mashed together like this. They would be safe.

The tug in Ven’s chest suddenly vanished. He slowed to a halt, looking around with an almost bored expression, although on the inside, his bones seemed to have disappeared.

“We’re here,” he said.

He raised Lost Memories into the sky, and obediently the town appeared to them. The four of them stood shoulder-to-shoulder as the world transformed, as buildings came from nothingness. Fog rolled in, smothering the town, but it remained clear above them where the solemn Kingdom Hearts laid, waiting for its master to use it again.

“How long until he finds us?” Terra asked.

“Someone will probably show up soon,” Ven said. “After what happened last time, he won’t want to let us walk around freely.”

“And where is he?”

Ven shrugged. “The castle. Maybe the church. One of those two, anyways.”

He closed his eyes, let the silver, gleaming map of Silent Hill form in his mind. There, he mapped out their path, ignoring the walls in the alleys they would have to cross through (he could just order them to go away). Opening, his eyes, he saw it in front of him: a silver line, connecting him to their destination. He doubted anyone else saw it.

“This way,” he said, hoisting his keyblade up over his shoulder.

He led their group onwards. Sora’s outline shook as the boy trembled violently. Eraqus wasn’t shaking, but his eyes were hollow, face gaunt-looking. Every once in a while, he’d stop and scan the area. Terra radiated grim determination as he moved purposely, a beast prowling its territory. Clearly, he still remembered beating Vanitas up last time he was in Silent Hill.

They could only hope that history repeated itself.

They stopped. Ahead of them, right at the fringe of the fog, awaited a cloaked figure. He was tall, not quite Terra’s height, more around Aqua’s height. But he knew it wasn’t her. Aqua wouldn’t stand like that, as hard and cold as a statue. And while she had always been strong, her muscles weren’t quite that pronounced. On this figure here, when the wind blew and flattened the fabric along his body, Ven could see the outline of tense muscles. Again, smaller than Terra’s brawn, but still worth noticing.

Ven heard the others summoning their keyblades, and he raised his own in a last warning. But Riku was at the mercy of a boy he feared more than them, and he merely flicked his head back, allowing his hood to fall. It seemed to slide down his silver hair like water, setting neatly at his collarbone. Unprotected from the elements, his bangs blew sideways, passing over his remaining eye.

“It’s not too late,” Sora said. He ran past Ven, wisely stopping only a few paces away. “You can still make this right, Riku.”

“You don’t understand,” Riku said gravely. “If you did, you’d be here next to me.”

Sora gaped, as if the thought of him fighting alongside Riku was incomprehensible.

Though Riku spoke to all of them next, his eye remained focused on Sora. “Vanitas is willing to make a deal,” he said. “If you leave, all of you, without a fuss, he’ll leave you alone for the rest of your lives.”

Dropping down into a fighting stance, already knowing the answer, Ven demanded, “And Aqua?”

“He won’t interfere with her wishes.”

“Yeah,” Ven scoffed, “as long as they’re the same as his!”

Riku’s lip curled for a brief second. “Are you any different?”

Not this again! Ven tuned Riku’s words out, determined not to let any of Vanitas’s lackeys play mind games with him. “Get out of here, Riku, or I’ll be forced to hurt you.”

Ahead of him, Sora’s fists shook as he held them at his sides. But he didn’t argue. Riku just dipped his head, then slid his back foot back as he took hold of his keyblade. He settled into the same fighting stance that Vanitas used.

Sora looked back at him, and Ven knew what he was asking.

Ven nodded, “Together.”

The two of them charged, Ven quickly catching up to Sora, keyblades In their hands and Riku in their sights. Behind, Eraqus and Terra took up the chase, breaking into a sprint. Riku waited, the quivering tip of his keyblade the only sign of fear. Seeing that made Ven’s heart thump painfully, but this was how it had to be. Riku would forgive them, once they saved him from Vanitas’s control.

Sora bounded ahead of him, bringing his keyblade back, twisting at the hip in order to –

A blur smashed into him, entangling itself with the boy as they skipped across the ground. Two fists rose, lined up with Sora’s head, and Ven saw no more of that battle as Riku took advantage of the distraction.

Ven turned just in time, blocking awkwardly, leaving his arm wide open. Yet being inexperienced, Riku did not take the chance to chop off his hand. Instead, he swung upwards, nearly nicking Ven’s chin, blade moving with a whoosh. And Ven dove, rolling past him, ending in a crouch as Riku swung around to face him.

“Light!”

That was not him, but Eraqus, rescuing Sora from his attacker. The attacker barked, a sound more animal than man, running off to take its place next to a familiar figure . . .

Riku disappeared, appearing a moment later at the other side at that very same figure. Vanitas, unmasked, stood between his servants, a derisive sneer on his face. Arms crossed, he faced them all smugly, eyes never losing the dancing light within them. Riku did nothing, waiting for his master’s orders. Sora’s attacker growled, displaying large canines.

For the first time, Ven got a good look at Sora’s attacker, saw it for what it truly was: Terra. But Terra was on his side, wasn’t he? Yes, he was standing there right at his shoulder, staring at his clone with complete shock. And Ven knew at once, just as he had recruited Terra’s light, his darker half had recruited Terra’s darkness. As if to rub it in, Terra’s darker half nudged Vanitas in the side, still hissing at whom he thought to be his enemies.

“I gave you a chance,” Vanitas said. “You could have run.”

“Not without Aqua,” Ven said.

Eraqus nodded, adding his voice. “You have no right to keep her from her family!”

Vanitas frowned. To Eraqus, he said, “You’re welcome to stay. If you stop causing trouble, I have no problem with _you_. It’s the rest that need to leave.”

Terra stirred, glancing sideways at Eraqus, as if frightened that his former Master would actually accept the offer. For his part, Eraqus was slowly shaking his head, looking at Vanitas with a mix of disgust and confusion.

“No? That’s fine.” Vanitas strode forwards, grinning wickedly. “I’ll just take care of all my problems then. Once and for all.”

With that last word, the X-Blade came to him.

It was almost the same as Ven remembered, but with some key differences. Last time, it, while formidable, had been rusted, missing pieces. But this keyblade was completely whole, sleek and eager to serve its master as he let the tip tap the ground.

“The X-Blade,” Eraqus breathed.

“Oh, you know about this?” Vanitas held the X-Blade up, examining the shaft as if he had never seen it before. “Can’t say I’m surprised. I bet my old Master never shut up about it.”

Eraqus’s throat worked. “You can’t . . . this isn’t possible!”

“No?” Vanitas said that with almost genuine curiosity. He twirled the X-Blade in his hands and remarked, “Seems pretty real to me.”

“You need a balanced heart to control the X-Blade!” Eraqus said hoarsely. “How could you summon it?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” Vanitas said.

“Ven,” Terra touched Ven’s shoulder, his lips right next to his ear, “what’s the plan?”

Ven shrugged. “Beat up Vanitas and his cronies?”

Terra pursed his lip. “I don’t think that’s going to work. We could win, but Vanitas is just going to run away and come back later.”

Ven glanced at him. “We need a reason for him to stay.”

“Aqua.” Terra shifted, glaring at Vanitas. “You’re the one with a connection to this town. You go get her.”

“Are you sure?”

“He’s right, Ventus,” Eraqus said. “We need to save her before Vanitas spirits her away.”

“We got your back,” Sora agreed. “Go get her.”

Ven nodded. “Cover me.”

“Then let us begin!” Eraqus shouted.

A thick stream of snow dropped out of the sky, spreading outwards. Just when the cloud seemed as concentrated and concealing as the fog around them, Eraqus whipped his arms outwards. Snow continued to fall from above, but now, all of it was floating above their heads like a halo, caught up in the Aeroga spell Eraqus had used. One more swipe of his hand, and the snow exploded outwards, swirling like a hurricane with them standing in the eye, hiding them from Vanitas.

“Go,” Eraqus said.

Ven looked at them, all of them, one last time, telling himself they would be fine. Then he ripped his gaze away, feeling like he was tearing off a piece of his own heart, and plunged into the storm.

Wind battered his face. His hair was frosted white from the blizzard, and he imagined his eyebrows didn’t fare much better. He held his arm up, shielding his eyes, trudging forwards. It didn’t matter where he went, so long as he ended up out of Vanitas’s eyesight, so long as his other half didn’t figure out their plan.

A clang. The winds weakened. He paused, flakes melting on his cheeks, forcing himself not to go back. Aqua needed him now. He had to be strong for her.

He broke into a sprint, still blinded by the storm, focusing on the map in his mind. Should he have to, he could probably navigate this town blind. The town’s pull yanked him sideways, then into an alley, safely out of range of Eraqus’s spell. He could see now that snow had gathered in every loose wrinkle of his clothes, and took a second to shake himself like a wet animal.

So far, so good. He clambered on top of a building, standing on the roof as he brandished Lost Memories. The mist parted, just as he had demanded, exposing the haunting image of the church, and the castle that loomed beyond.

This was it. He stepped onto his glider, and took off.

He was a comet blazing through the air, a cannonball freshly fired. The castle opened for him, bricks shifting, absorbed into each other as they made room for him. He leapt and landed inside the castle, wall closing behind him. His keyblade sailed on until it finally disappeared,.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Aqua?”

His voice bounced off the empty halls. His clothes rustled, as if caught in a breeze.

“Aqua,” he repeated quietly.

Where was she? He would definitely find her, given time, but he didn’t have much. Each second that ticked by was another his friends spent fighting Vanitas and his servants. And with Vanitas wielding the X-Blade, he didn’t want to leave them for too long . . .

How _did_ Vanitas get the X-Blade?

He blinked. He’d think about that later. Aqua was important now. Taking a deep breath, he reached inside himself, groped for that connection he’d established with her so long ago. And he felt it: a soft pulse, the sour taste of confusion and worry. She had no idea what was going on.

Master Eraqus’s room, that’s where she was. His feet moved automatically, even before he had marked it down on his mental map. He supposed it made sense; Terra had told him that when Aqua was young, she’d hide under the Master’s bed when she was scared. That wasn’t the sense he was getting now, but maybe she just couldn’t fit underneath anymore.

The door was unlocked, slightly open, creaking inwards at his touch. In the widening crack, he saw Eraqus’s room, same as it had always been. But when the door was halfway open, he saw the opposite wall and the framed picture that lay upon it. It should have been one of them: Eraqus and his apprentices, all of them smiling at the camera. But while Eraqus, Aqua and Terra were there, Ven was not. A rip marked where his face should be, and someone had drew on the spot with crayon. If the yellow eyes of the crudely-sketched face were anything to go by, it had been Vanitas trying to scribble himself in.

When the door was fully open, he saw her. She was curled up by the head of Eraqus’s bed, eyes fixed blankly on the wall. A blue cord – a freaking _leash_ \- attached her to a bedpost, the knot messy as if tied in a great hurry. There was a collar around her neck, almost hidden underneath her chin and hair, but he saw enough.

Oh, yes, he _definitely_ saw enough.

“Aqua, it’s me.”

Her head snapped around. She stared at him for a full ten seconds, then squeezed her eyes shut and looked away.

“Aqua . . .”

She bolted. Or at least _tried_ to. The leash caught her though, yanked back hard, made her eyes bug as she choked. She coughed once, rubbing her neck, shakily pushing herself up to her hands and knees. There was nothing he could see but animalistic panic.

“Aqua, it’s me, Ven!”

The bedpost groaned as she strained against it. Seeing her like that, seeing her scrabble uselessly at the sheets, he didn’t want to see any more. It was like a train wreck: although he desperately wanted to advert his eyes, he couldn’t. He could almost feel this scene being engraved into his brain.

Why didn’t she just take it off?

He walked up to her; a simple task since there was nowhere for her to go. She went completely still as he grabbed the collar, felt it under his palm. It was metal, warm metal, and when his fingers skimmed over the warped mess at the back, he realized it wasn’t her fault. She _couldn’t_ take it off. Vanitas had melted the clasp, fused it with the rest so that it couldn’t be removed without outside help.

But the leash . . . arguably worse than the collar, it only needed one finger to remove. Vanitas hadn’t bothered to secure this; he’d simply clipped it to her like one would to a dog. But she wasn’t taking it off, and when Ven tried to do it for her, she grabbed his wrists, begging him silently to leave it be.

“What’s wrong with you?” he exclaimed.

He expected no answer, and got none. And looking into her face, her eyes, seeing the resigned, defeated posture of her body, the way she rocked, he knew. She was broken; her mind, heart – soul – had been utterly dashed to pieces.

Vanitas had won.

 _No_ , _not yet. There’s still hope_. He would fix her. Him, Terra and Eraqus, they would fix her again. They just needed time, they just needed her. Then everything would be better.

“Come on, Aqua.” He freed her from the leash, causing her to whimper. “We’re getting out of here.”

But there lay the newest obstacle. Aqua resisted his urgings, and clung to the bed, doing her best to avoid his stare. Finally, she managed a few weak words.

And they were exactly what Ven _didn’t_ want to hear.

“I don’t want to go. I want to stay here.”

He clenched his jaw, holding his tongue until he could calm himself. “Aqua, you have to go. It’s not safe for you here.”

“No!” She barked, darting to the other side of the bed. Ven noticed that she was careful to stay on the bed. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Aqua . . .” He exhaled in a furious hiss, cornering her. “We have to get you out of here before Vanitas comes back.”

Even before he had finished, she was shaking her head. “Vanitas won’t hurt me,” she said. “He loves me.”

“Did you forget what he did to you?” His shout made her jump. “Don’t you remember what happened in Silent Hill? How he kidnapped you?”

She choked. Her body shook as she struggled not to cry. It appeared that in her desperation to convince herself of Vanitas’s goodness, she had wiped those memories from her mind.

“He is not your friend, Aqua,” Ven hissed. “He doesn’t love you. He has you on a frigging _leash_. You’re just a pet to him!”

“No!” Her face was buried in the bed, voice muffled. “He’s trying to protect me.”

“Aqua, we need to go!”

“No!”

She suddenly turned on herself, gnawing on her knuckles. Ven sat back, dismayed. She wouldn’t come. She wouldn’t leave Vanitas. Terra was right. She needed help, but he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t make her –

But he could. His breath caught in his chest, making it dry and itchy. He could make her listen to him, but that would require, he would have to . . .

But he had to. If he didn’t, if he let Vanitas keep Aqua, there was no turning back. She would never be the same again. Everything he and Terra had done would be in vain, and Vanitas would finally win.

He couldn’t let that happen.

He spoke quietly, as if this was a sacred place. “Aqua, _get up_.”

The world took a deep breath. Aqua froze, her mind reordering itself as it registered the command. Then, robotically, she obeyed, slipping off the bed, head bowed. Her body shook and through their link, Ven could feel her terror.

Kingdom Hearts, what was he doing . . . ? Vanitas would have a field day with this-

Suddenly, his resolve steeled. No, no he couldn’t, because it wasn’t the same. Vanitas, he would control Aqua so that he could _possess_ her, while he was doing it to _save_ her. The action may have been the same, but the intention was completely different, and that was all the difference.

“I’m not Vanitas,” he murmured to himself. He repeated that to himself once, and a weight seemed to be lifted off him as he realized that what was doing was justified, what he was doing was _okay_.

It was for the best.

“Aqua, follow me,” he ordered.

He left the room, Aqua following obediently in his wake.


	49. Chapter 49

“Scatter!”

Years upon years of training had conditioned Terra to instinctively obey Eraqus’s commands. That wasn’t true for Sora though, who would have been hit by Vanitas’s shotlock had Eraqus not leapt atop of him. Eraqus summoned a quick shield, which rang like a stricken bell as the shotlock grazed it. By this point, Eraqus’s blizzard had passed, leaving them fully expose to their foes.

Vanitas was on a building, sneering down at them, and now Riku and Terra’s darker half leapt away from his side. They landed on the ground in a splash of white, knees bent to absorb the impact. Terra’s other half - Guardian, he remembered it calling itself - stayed like that, creeping forwards on his knuckles like an ape. Riku stood his ground, keyblade out and ready.

Guardian struck first, wielding dark claws shaped like knives, leaving a sizzling trail in his wake. He went immediately for Eraqus’s throat, teeth gashing, eyes blazing, trying to shove past the keyblade Eraqus had raised to defend himself. His might, his pure bulk, was on the verge of overwhelming the older man, at least until Eraqus found enough space to swing. One strike to the head, and then Guardian retreated and went after his lighter half instead, protected from Eraqus by a barrier Vanitas had cast.

Terra dug his heels in.

Pain. It came from the side, where Riku had just lashed him with a dark whip. It shouldn’t hurt so much, this he knew. He was no longer a person of light and darkness, however, but of only one element. The darkness no longer bowed to him; he’d lost his immunity. Knowing that, knowing he had lost the one thing that had carried him so far, the thing that had saved him from the ones he faced now, terrified him.

Guardian slammed right into him, head first. Like a bull, he grinded him into the ground with his shoulder. Terra’s shirt frayed, rocks carved into his back, and he left a trail of broken earth and red behind them.

Then, canines flashed. Mouth hanging open, saliva dripping from the roof, Guardian lunged, stopped only by Terra’s hand on his jaw. But Guardian merely angled its chin, let Terra’s hand slide right past, then lashed out with its claws. Terra couldn’t stop them in time, not before they left beads of blood on his temples. At least he had Guardian by the wrists now, but his arms were shaking as bit by bit, Guardian powered his way through.

Shit! Why was his darker half so strong?

 _Because your darkness was always stronger_ , his brain reminded him. He, being pure light, could sense the truth of that, sense just how much more raw power Guardian had than he. Brawn would no longer work; against his darkness, he would always be the loser.

“Terra!” Eraqus swept in, swinging his arm like a golfer at the tee. Guardian yelped as a sudden wind spell buffeted him. He shifted his weight off his prey, snarling. Eraqus steadied himself, hands glowing white, ready to deliver the same kind of blow Vanitas had defeated Terra’s whole self with.

But before he could, the ground exploded, and Terra and Eraqus flew into the air, landing in a crumpled heap some distance away. Guardian alone was untouched, grinning viciously in the rising smoke. And in the background was Vanitas’s laughter, his utter joy as he stood atop the same building and aimed another spell.

“He’s sniping us!” Terra said.

“Not for long,” Eraqus said.

Vanitas’s newest attack came: a ball of sparkling energy. Eraqus charged, moving faster than his age should allow, knocking Guardian out of the way with a quick spell. He vaulted into the air, casting Aero under him for extra height – just like Ven would – then blasted the energy ball with a powerful beam of light. The ball stopped, thrumming fiercely, before flying back at its original summoner with astonishing speed.

Vanitas stopped it with his _hands_.

It did force him back, but only a few inches. Then, almost lazily, he deflected it to the side. He still wore that awful smile, like they were schoolboys playing a game of catch.

“Give up!” Vanitas shouted. “You can’t win!”

So focused were they on him and his actions, that Guardian almost slunk in unnoticed. Terra just became aware of Guardian’s growl, that he was lunging, when a keyblade flew out of nowhere. It passed right in front of Terra’s nose, almost skimming it, nailing Guardian in the face. The keyblade bounced off and next thing they knew, Kingdom Key had flown upwards, spinning, and impaled itself in a building.

Sora stared at his keyblade, gaping.

“Summon it back!” Eraqus shouted.

Sora jumped. Raised his hand. Bit his lip. And Riku moved, the darkness propelling him to unmatched speeds. One hand reached forwards, reaching, reaching for his prey . . .

“Sora, watch out!”

Sora turned in the nick of time. Riku didn’t grab him, but his fist still smashed into Sora’s jaw, enough to knock him onto his bottom. Riku landed, crouched, knuckles grazing the ground just how Guardian liked to stand. He stood up and loomed above Sora, mere steps away, close, so close . . .

But Riku would not kill him. The keyblade was forgotten, tossed to the side as he tried to wrestle with his best friend. Sora rolled out of the way, scrambling wildly for a hold, anything. Riku, staring down at Sora, flexed his gloved hands and reached –

Terra pounced. With one punch, he had Riku recoiling. It wasn’t as it should be, wasn’t as strong as when he was _whole_ . . . but it was enough.

He helped Sora to his feet, and the boy took his place next to him, calling his keyblade back. Eraqus ran up behind them, glowering at their grouped opponents. Vanitas was still on the building, his throne, watching with arms crossed.

His fingers snapped. Guardian roared. In his hands, a keyblade appeared. It was a thick, heavy thing, kind of like an axe with an eye set in the middle of the head. The teeth were all jagged and irregular. With its black and red colouring, it looked evil.

“Why are you doing this?” Terra shouted at his other half. “Why are you fighting us?”

Vanitas shouted, “He knows the truth, Terra. He knows that this is where Aqua truly wants to be! And unlike you, he’s willing to acknowledge her choice, not throw her back into danger.”

He ignored Vanitas’s jabs. Lies. That’s all they were. Clever lies from a boy seeking to manipulate him. Unfortunately, it appeared to have worked on half of him.

“He’s lying!” Terra hollered. “He’s the one whose dangerous! Aqua needs to be protected –”

“Mega-flare!”

“No!” Eraqus shouted.

He clapped his hands together, raising a dome of earth around them. Just before the rock closed over them, Terra caught a glimpse of an explosion.

Then, they were safely contained, the world roaring outside. The wall closest to Vanitas, to the Mega-flare, slowly went red, but the rocks stayed standing. With one arm, Eraqus kept Sora away from the simmering wall, trusting Terra to mind himself. In their shelter, only the glowing rocks provided any light. It carved their faces out of red, catching only the edges, so that most of it remained shadowed. Staring at Eraqus’s face, Terra could see the man’s chin, the slope of his nose, and his brow, but nothing else.

How Eraqus knew the spell was over, that was a mystery for the ages. Perhaps it was his own experience with that attack, or else he could no longer feel strain on his constructed barrier. Whatever the reason, he abruptly whipped his hand up, causing the rock to crack right down the middle. Then he swung his hand down, and the rock split into quarters.

“Terra, prepare your shotlock,” Eraqus said. “On three, I will lift this.”

“What about me?” Sora asked.

Eraqus said, “You make sure they don’t sneak up on us. One . . .”

Terra hoisted his keyblade up. Light sparked from the tip, illuminating their figures in snatches.

“Two . . .”

Sora sunk into a fighting stance. In the gloom, he and Terra could barely see each other’s eyes, but they nodded at each other regardless.

“Three!”

The quarters separated, floating up just above their heads. Terra let the shotlock loose, aiming straight for Vanitas. His keyblade kicked back, informing him that it had met its target. Gritting his teeth, Terra poured more power into it, feeling it drain his magical reverses. And Eraqus, he was directing the boulders, sending them after their targets. Riku and Guardian each got one; the other two went for Vanitas. They dropped right into the path of the shotlock, chipping, becoming even more deadly as shards joined their parents in flight.

Between the rocks and the shotlock, Terra couldn’t see Vanitas. Riku and Guardian, though? They were fair game. He spied Riku running, power lines snapping behind him, bursting into bright sparks as the boulder chasing him slammed into the poles. It lost no speed, spurred on by Eraqus’s magic, until it finally slammed into the building Riku had ducked into. The old structure groaned, swayed.

Guardian bellowed. Terra’s darker half, apparently tired of running, turned, squarely facing the oncoming rock. They watched in disbelief as Guardian raised his keyblade, then sliced the boulder in half with nothing but pure strength. The pieces rose again, intent on their target, but Guardian called the darkness to him. It carved out a circle around him, making its master hover just above the ground.

Then, it all happened at once. Guardian struck, blasting the rocks into dust; Terra’s shotlock was split down the middle, no longer shooting straight, but to either side; the two rocks Eraqus had fired at Vanitas came bouncing back. With no more emotion than a widening of his eyes, Eraqus used Aeroga to cast a boulder to each side, where they crashed and stopped moving with a resounding boom.

Vanitas had his X-Blade out, pointing straight ahead, and it was that which was causing Terra’s shotlock to split. As if he were infused with the fairy dust from Neverland, Vanitas began to float, outline a faint white. Then, that sharpened, and he was racing right at them, X-Blade still held in front.

Sora shouted, “Terra!”

Terra cut off the shotlock, diving out of the way. Vanitas slammed the X-Blade into the ground, creating a shockwave that could only be seen by the snow it disturbed.

One slash. Sora went flying. Another. Terra cried out, a blinding pain setting his chest aflame.

That left one. Eraqus and Vanitas glared at each other. Vanitas still wore his shark-toothed grin.

“I have had enough of you!” Eraqus declared. The man’s clothes, his ponytail, whipped violently upwards as if a wind blew from below. His hands clenched around a shard of light, one shaped almost like a spear -

And the shard was gone. In its place was a sword. A _huge_ sword. So bright, it was, that Terra couldn’t even see the blade. Eraqus stepped sideways – took just one step – and he was gone, too.

And was back, appearing with a violet flash, just a metre away from where he had once been. His light-sword thing exploded with a purple aura as he slashed. Then, he was gone again, teleporting a little to the left this time, holding his sword in a ready position. He charged, slashed, disappeared before Vanitas could do a thing. Then, he was behind Vanitas, nearly getting a clean strike on the boy.

Command styles. Eraqus was using a _command style_. Before Silent Hill, Terra and Aqua had barely scratched the surface of those. Afterwards? Well, they had all been a little too traumatized to worry about learning something new. But he knew enough. It looked like Bladecharge, but the way Eraqus teleported was more like Aqua’s Ghost Drive. Maybe that’s exactly what it was: a hybrid of the two.

As Eraqus zipped all around Vanitas, deftly dodging all his attacks with simple teleportation, Terra turned his attention to their other two foes. Riku had just crept out of the building he had hid in, his face a ghostly white. Guardian, however, was stomping towards him. Terra faced his other half down coolly, watching as he dragged his keyblade - Chaos Ripper, Earthshaker warned him - across the ground.

“You ready, Sora?” Terra asked with a grin.

Sora looked at him suspiciously. “For what?”

“Just land feet first!”

He swept Sora off his feet, then threw him at his leaping dark half. Alarm made his heart skip a beat. Shit, this was _Sora,_ not Ven! But Sora flipped, going feet first just as Terra had commanded, and his huge shoes smacked straight into Guardian’s chest. They both flew back, Guardian landing on his back, Sora rolling off him. Before Guardian could maul Sora, Terra leapt atop him.

Bad move. Guardian reared, bucking, dislodging Terra just enough that he could rip Terra off with his hands. Then Terra was on the ground, Guardian straddling him. His fangs glinted in the faint light.

From the side, Sora swung. Guardian caught the Kingdom Key in one hand, looking almost bored. Casually, he used the seized keyblade to fling Sora through the air, then returned to his prey.

Terra grunted, shoving, trying to push his other half off him. All he earned was a gurgling chuckle. Claws dug into his upper arm, squeezing. It was all he could do not to cry out.

 _Crack_. Stars burst in front of his eyes. He couldn’t move, as the headbutt had nearly sent him into unconsciousness. An echo of the blow pounded through his skull, making his brain cells vibrate. Guardian grinned wickedly, so much like Vanitas would.

And he grabbed Terra by the throat. Lifted him high. And . . . Light, he couldn’t _breathe_ . . . Bright specks danced in front of his eyes.

“No!” Again, Sora tried to rush to his rescue.

Again, he failed.

With his other hand, Guardian grabbed Sora. He lifted the boy high, then with all his might, threw him down into the ground.

Sora didn’t move.

Face going purple, Terra clawed at the hand around his neck. But Guardian didn’t even notice, and continued to grin. Meanwhile, Riku was walking up to them, Sora’s limp form reflected in his eyes.

Black fell over Terra’s vision –

He coughed violently, stomach heaving with the force. He was on the ground, drool dripping out of the corner of his open mouth. He could see Sora, who still had yet to move. And between them both was a foot, a leg hidden behind white fabric.

“You stay away!” Eraqus howled from his protective stance above them. His command style had ended, leaving him without a weapon. But the way he stood, the absolute rage and determination he radiated, it was like he was still holding that massive sword.

Facing off against him were Guardian and Riku, with Vanitas walking up behind them. Terra struggled to stand, to help, but his body still hadn’t recovered from being strangled.

Guardian and Riku split off to the side. Then, with Vanitas in the middle, Guardian on the left and Riku on the right, they all charged.

And Eraqus lost it.

“DO NOT TOUCH THEM!”

Eraqus sprung forwards, rushing to meet Riku who was ahead of his two allies. As Eraqus drew his fist back, his outline shimmered with light. His punch knocked Riku right off his feet, and then Eraqus leapt back, moving to stand between Terra and Sora again, the light surrounding him reaching a fevered intensity as he did so-

A flash.

The light cleared, and Master Keeper sat firmly in its master’s hand. Eraqus glanced at it, surprise etched on his face. Terra had the suspicion that Master Keeper hadn’t appeared because Eraqus thought himself worthy of the keyblade again.

No, it had been the keyblade itself who had made that decision.

Eraqus adapted quickly, and thrust his keyblade, driving it into Guardian’s gut. Then, hooking Guardian’s shirt with his blade’s teeth, he lobbed Guardian into Vanitas. Guardian rolled over him, flattening Vanitas. But the dark boy was quick to rise. He pointed at Eraqus, shouting, “Take him down!”

Eraqus braced himself.

He and Vanitas locked blades. There was a brief standoff, very brief, then Eraqus twisted his hip and kicked Vanitas back. Just in time, too, as Guardian was on the attack. Flowing with his previous move, Eraqus whacked Guardian on the spine, driving him head-first into the ground. A quick spell – some kind of light spell that seemed to shoot projectiles – had Guardian crying out with pain, and then Eraqus turned away from him, blocking Vanitas again.

Riku tried to attack his back, but Eraqus knew. Without warning, he swung his arms out, conjuring a massive wind spell that not only stopped Vanitas and Riku from attacking, but drove Guardian away. Yet Terra found himself and Sora to be untouched. A small circle was etched out around them, the wild air currents as effective as any shield. Eraqus raised his keyblade, pointed it to the sky, and storm clouds gathered.

Thunder. Lightning struck everywhere, the bolts so bright, so numerous, it was literally impossible to see. If he hadn’t turned his eyes away after the first couple, Terra was sure he would have gone blind. But Eraqus, he was still staring straight at it, and his grey eyes appeared white as they reflected the storm’s fury.

Standing there, his clothes billowing behind him in the tempest he had created, Eraqus stood proudly. Lightning reflected off his skin in harsh shades, only highlighting the lines of tension. His scars seemed blood-red, as if they bled anew. And every muscle, every single minute he had devoted to his training, showed. He was as hardened as any warrior, as agile as any beast, as mighty as any god. Despite anything Eraqus might claim, Terra knew that he would always be a Keyblade Master.

Terra didn’t even see Vanitas recover himself, but Master Eraqus did. As the wind barrier split, torn asunder by the pure speed of Vanitas’s charge, Eraqus met him. Eraqus moved away from Terra and Sora, leaping back as Vanitas whipped the X-Blade downwards. They sparred there, Eraqus seeming to glide along the ground.

So awe-striking were they, that Terra almost forgot to check behind them. It was unnecessary, however, as Guardian had only just leapt before what looked to be a white whip deflected him. Even without looking, Terra knew it had been Eraqus.

“I refuse to be hounded by you anymore!” Eraqus shouted.

“That so?” Vanitas teleported a fair distance away. “Well, it just so happens I’ve had enough of _you_!”

He snapped his fingers.

Everyone looked at him, baffled. Eraqus hadn’t blown up, Vanitas hadn’t sprouted wings – what the heck had snapping his fingers done?

Then, Terra saw it. It was so faint at first, that he thought he had imagined it. But then, oh yes, he saw it; there could be no mistake. The upper half of the building Eraqus stood beside _moved_.

“Eraqus, _watch out_!”

Eraqus stopped. Looked behind. Looked to the side.

It didn’t occur to him in time to look up.

The building shuddered, crumbled. The entire upper half slid off cleanly. Once its support was gone, once there was nothing underneath, Vanitas aimed the X-Blade, and fired. Glass burst from the building’s window pane; the entire thing trembled and moaned. Plaster, brick, and stone all fell together in one giant landslide.

Right onto Eraqus.

“NO!” Terra ran for where he had last saw Eraqus, ploughing straight through Guardian and Riku. Even above the scream in his ears and the ruckus of the landslide, he could still hear Vanitas’s eerie laughter.

The dust cleared.

Eraqus was nowhere to be found.

“No! NO!” Terra pounced on top the wreckage, searching for a sign of life. “Eraqus! Master Eraqus, can you hear me!”

“Will you relax?” Vanitas snapped, arms crossed behind his head. “He’s not dead.”

“He’s . . . not?”

“No!” Vanitas rolled his eyes. “Obviously not.”

Terra stared, at a loss for words. Not far from him, a pale hand forced itself into the open.

“Eraqus!”

He ran over, using his magic to lift whatever debris lay on Eraqus. Eraqus pulled himself out, panting, flesh riddled with injuries.

“Are you okay?” Terra demanded.

Eraqus looked at him. Using his keyblade for support, he shakily stood –

Then fell over, defeated.


	50. Chapter 50

Sora woke with a start, hands snapping open. Breath hitching, he scrambled up into a sitting position, expecting to see Terra’s dark half looming over him, or Vanitas’s smirk or Riku’s cold stare. But straight ahead was nothing but white.

“Huh? Where am I?”

He lifted his hands, finding them to be clean, although blood and dirt were still caked under his nails. His lower half was covered in a light white blanket, matching the shade of the walls and bed.

“You should rest, Sora. You took a lot of punishment.”

“Riku!” Sora swung his knees underneath him, twisting at the waist to face his best friend. Riku, cloaked, hood down, was standing by a window, staring outside. There were drawings on the wall around him, all in crayon, childish. They were not at all the sort of pictures Riku would make; if anything, Sora would have thought that he himself had made them.

Sora looked closely, a big ball of tension swelling in his stomach. Riku, he was one of the bad guys, right? He was wearing the cloak that the villains wore, but he didn’t have his keyblade out. And Sora didn’t feel hurt.

He sighed in relief. Riku must have finally seen the light; went back to the good side. About time!

“Riku, what’s going on? Where’s everyone else?”

Riku, still staring out the window, shrugged. “Back where I left them, I guess. You should be safe here.”

“Safe? Is this . . . are we still in Silent Hill?”

“Yes,” Riku said, tone clipped. A clump of snow stuck to the window and Riku touched a finger to the spot, before dragging that digit down the pane. “We’re in Brookhaven Hospital, the last safe place. You have no idea how hard it was for us to arrange this.”

“Safe . . .” Sora mindlessly checked himself for injuries.

“Yes, this room should be safe. For now.”

That wasn’t Riku; the voice was much too melodic for that. Sora looked over his shoulder, seeing a girl he had never met before. She had wide blue eyes like him, and blonde hair that delicately sat upon her head. To her chest, she clutched a sketchbook.

She reminded him of Kairi.

“Hi, I’m Sora,” he said. With a grin, he extended his arm for a handshake.

“Naminé.”

In the middle of their handshake, Sora couldn’t help but ask, “You live here?”

Her smile, already slight, weakened further. “I have for a very long time,” she said.

Riku interrupted. “She’ll keep you safe, Sora. Just stay in this room.”

“Okay . . .” Suddenly, everything came rushing back and he leapt off the bed. “Wait, Riku, what happened to everyone else? Who won the fight?”

“No one yet, as far as I know,” Riku said. “But it’s only a matter of time before Vanitas beats them.”

“We have to help them!” Sora cried. He dashed past Naminé to the door, tugging on it. But the knob refused to turn.

He looked back. “Uh, a little help would be nice.”

Back still turned, Riku said, “You’re not going, Sora.”

“But they need my help!” he shouted, spinning around. “They need _our_ help.”

Riku was silent.

Sora took a few steps forwards. “Riku, this isn’t you. You’re not a bad guy. Why are you doing this?”

At his side, Riku’s hands curled into shaking fists. Muscles popped out on his arms, showing through his cloak. His head turned slowly, his eye dead and hopeless. Helplessly, he said, “He has Kairi’s heart.”

Sora flinched. _That means that this is my fault, too_. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you have to do this. We can beat him, me and you, and then rescue Kairi . . .”

Riku exploded. “Don’t you get it?” he shouted, dark flames spontaneously erupting from his cloak. “You can’t. _We_ can’t. He’s too powerful to be defeated.”

“But if we just try . . .”

“And what if we fail?” Riku hissed. “He’ll kill her!”

His fist slammed on the window, making it shudder. Breathing heavily, Riku laid his forehead against the glass. “The only thing I can do,” he said, “is steal her heart away from under his nose, but I don’t know where is it!”

“Don’t you?” Naminé asked innocently.

Both of them stared at her.

“You know?” Riku took a step forward. He sounded like he didn’t know whether to kiss or kill her.

“I . . .” Blushing, she stared at her feet. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Okay, this is great!” Sora hopped right up to her. “You can tell us where Kairi’s heart is, and then Riku doesn’t have to be the bad guy anymore!”

Naminé opened her sketchpad, flipping through the pages. “Riku told me Vanitas has the X-Blade now.”

“That’s correct,” Riku said.

“Then don’t you see?” she asked. “The X-Blade can only be formed by a heart of equal light and darkness. Vanitas was a being of pure darkness. So, in order to complete the X-Blade, he needed to combine with a being of light . . .”

She turned the sketchpad around, allowing them to see. The image there was Vanitas with his X-Blade, holding it up proudly underneath a shining Kingdom Hearts.

“ . . . He needed Kairi.”

Sora blinked. “I don’t understand.”

But it appeared Riku did. In a low, hoarse voice, he said, “He’s consumed her heart.”

Naminé nodded, closing the sketchpad again.

A beat passed; a beat where Sora slowly realized what Naminé was saying; a beat where Riku could only gape in shock. For a moment, they were suspended like that, a snapshot in time. Then, Riku’s legs gave. He sank to his knees, mouth still open, eyes glassy as they looked at nothing.

“No, no . . .” he mumbled. “If that’s true, then . . . I can’t do _anything_.”

“No, Riku, we can still fight!” Sora cried. “We can still beat him!”

“No, we _can’t!_ Do you see this?” Riku marched up to him, jabbing one finger at his empty eye socket. “This is what happened the last time I fought him! And it wasn’t a lucky shot; he would have killed me, but he decided not to because he thought taking out my eye would be _more fun_.”

His hands grabbed Sora’s shoulders. “Don’t you get it?” Riku said, nearly begging. “We can’t win against him.”

“But it’s not just us,” Sora said quietly. Gently, he grabbed one of Riku’s wrists and pushed it off. “We have Ven, Terra and Master Eraqus on our side.”

“Why does it matter?” Riku spat. “They can’t beat him. What do you think they’ve been trying to do this entire time? No, he’s already won.”

He walked away from Sora, returning to that same window. “There’s no hope, Sora. You either stand with him, or you die.”

“Well, I refuse to be one of the bad guys!” Sora walked backwards towards the exit. If Riku refused to believe him, then Sora would just have to prove him wrong. “I’m going.”

“Sora - !”

Sora spun around, and then tapped the knob with his keyblade, unlocking it. The second he crossed the threshold, the temperature dropped drastically, as if it was trying to stop his muscles from working. He shivered, rubbing his arms, but continued to march.

The door slammed shut behind him. He didn’t care. Strides determined, he started to run through the blackened halls.

Riku teleported in front of him.

“Sora, this is a stupid idea,” he said. “You can’t beat him.”

“Yeah, well I’m not going to sit around and let him win, either!” he shot back. His skin crawled when he realized that Riku had put his hood back on.

“You’re going to die, Sora.” With his face hidden by shadows, Riku reminded him of an avatar of death. “Please, I’ve already lost Kairi. Don’t make me lose you, too.”

That hurt. Sora’s heart gave a painful twitch. Why . . . why he was saying this? Kairi wasn’t dead; she couldn’t be dead! She was . . . he was going to rescue her. And if Riku stood in his way?

So be it.

Riku held out his hand, fingers uncurling like a the petals of an opening flower. “Sora, please.”

Tears filled his eyes. Past the hard ball in his stomach, Sora whispered, “I’m going, Riku. Either you come with me, or stay here.”

Riku didn’t even hesitate before summoning his keyblade. “I’m not letting my best friend get killed!”

That was all the warning he got. Riku leapt at him, swinging his keyblade as if to kill. Sora dodged back, landing hard, his soles bending under the force. He felt the power of Kingdom Key roll through him, ready to help, ready to clash against his opponent in a desperate, chaotic brawl –

Sora wrestled with his yet-to-appear keyblade, subduing it. Now that he understood what was going on, he would not fight his best friend.

“So what are you going to do?” Sora shouted. “Kill me yourself?”

“Just” – Riku grunted as he swung – “get back in the damn room!”

The darkness that radiated from Riku’s keyblade was just strong enough to make Sora wobble onto his heels. Arms out for balance, Sora rocked back onto the balls of his feet, bending his knees in preparation for a quick move.

“Riku, they could get killed!” Sora said. “I can’t let that happen.”

“It’ll happen whether you’re there or not.” Riku turned so that he was standing almost sideways. “You make no difference.”

“So, I should just give up?” Sora demanded. “I can’t just stand by and watch this, not when . . . it was . . . it was all my fault.”

Just as they always did at this time, his tears began to fall. They were hot, angry tears, which left his tear ducts burning with the need to make more. He wiped them away. Sucking in air through his nose, he noticed the passage was blocked, and sniffled to clear it.

“Sora, this isn’t your fault,” Riku said quietly. “The only reason Vanitas came after us was because of Aqua, Ventus and Terra. He just wanted to use us to get to them.”

“Don’t blame them!” Sora said. “This isn’t their fault either. It’s Vanitas. Just his.”

Riku shrugged. A lock of hair peeked out of his hood, but retreated again. “We’re just bystanders caught in the middle of a war. None of this is our fault.”

“But you still have a choice,” Sora said gently. “Let me go.”

Riku shook his head. “You’re nuts.”

Somewhere, a clock ticked. The sound echoed through the barren halls, resonating within thier bones. Now what? They stood there, neither really knowing how to proceed. Riku still had his keyblade out, but it was slack at his side. Sora had yet to summon his.

He took a step forwards, the bitter taste of acceptance on his tongue. Riku wasn’t going to help him. He was too scared; had lost too much hope. Maybe it was better this way. That way, if he failed, Riku would still be here to protect Kairi. Although if Vanitas was using Kairi’s heart, then who knew how he could protect her.

Either way, it was time to force the issue.

Without saying anything, Sora ran forwards, eyes locked on a spot behind Riku. Riku started forwards, arms raised like he was going in for a tackle, but instead, he created a wall of darkness to bar his path. Sora bounced off, shoulder stinging.

“It’s no use, Sora.”

Sora gritted his teeth. “I’m not going to stay in that room for the rest of my life!”

“That’s not the point!” Riku approached, coming so close that Sora could see a hint of his face. “I can fix this; I will. I just need more time!”

“So, how far are you willing to go?” Sora said. “Hurt me? Kill them? Riku, this isn’t right. I don’t want you to be like this, even for me and Kairi. And she wouldn’t want this, either!”

“Sora -!”

He ran straight past Riku into the barrier. It didn’t even shudder. He rested for a moment, then backed up and tried again. And again. Each time, the spell held strong. Each time, Sora went back for more.

“Get out of my way!” Sora grunted. Head ducked, shoulder leading, he slammed into the barrier again. The force of his own charge was reflected back at him, roaring through his body with the suddenness and intensity of a lightning bolt. It burned out the air in his lungs, so that he felt like he was exhaling smoke, and he slid down to his knees, breathing heavily.

“Are you done?” Riku deadpanned.

Sora glared at him. Without a word, he rose to his feet again.

“You can keep hitting it all you want,” Riku said. “I’m not budging. You’ll see. By tomorrow, you’ll be thanking me . . .”

He turned away. Turned his back to Sora. Hands spread, Riku continued to speak, but Sora no longer had mind for his words. He knew what he had to do.

He summoned his keyblade, swung, and Riku dropped.

“I’m so sorry!” he stammered. Cringing, peeking through his fingers, Sora nudged Riku’s head with his foot. “I really didn’t want to do that.”

Riku was fairly tall for his age, but he wasn’t that much heavier. Sora hauled him up, draping Riku’s limp arm over his shoulders. With no lack of effort, he stumbled back to Naminé’s room, and knocked.

Sora awkwardly asked, “Uh, hey, Naminé. Can Riku stay here . . . ?”

* * *

Terra swallowed, stepping back, hoping that Eraqus would miraculously recover and come to his rescue. However, the Keyblade Master had lapsed into unconsciousness and was doing nothing more than limply lying over the rubble. Sora was gone, too, but at least he appeared to have taken Riku with him. Still, that left Terra facing his darker half and more importantly, Vanitas.

“It’s not too late,” Vanitas said. “You can still surrender, or run. I’m not picky.”

Terra closed his eyes. No matter what Vanitas may say, he didn’t have a choice. There had never been a choice. He held his hand up, crooking his fingers in a clear invitation to fight. Vanitas merely scoffed.

The dark boy snapped his fingers. “Finish him.”

Bellowing, beating his chest, Guardian swept in for the kill.

“It’s not ending here,” Terra murmured. “Not like this.”

He picked Earthshaker up, holding it parallel to the ground, just waiting. His Wayfinder, tied around his neck, gleamed in the dim sunlight. It flickered orange and red, like embers of a dying fire, peeking just above the collar of his shirt. But though only a sliver showed, he could feel Vanitas zeroing in on it, capturing it securely in his sights.

Guardian neared. Terra pointed his keyblade straight up, then let it drop, the momentum carrying his arm in a powerful blow.

The resulting clang rang through the world. He felt the collision all the way down to the bottom of his feet. Where the two keyblade had made contact, there was a spark. A bright one, almost pure in hue. The light didn’t just go away either, but clung to Terra’s keyblade even as he strained against Guardian.

They were exactly the same height, but Guardian still seemed to be taller as he slowly forced Terra down. The keyblades were locked at the hilt, with the teeth preventing them from slipping past one another. Terra groaned, sweating, shaking with the effort. He tried weakly to get away, but Guardian easily stayed with him. In his mind, he cursed. When it came to brute strength, he had always been the best – even when Master Eraqus was included. A situation like this, where he was overpowered, he didn’t know how to react.

 _Just pretend you’re moving a boulder,_ he thought. He struggled to wipe out the reality of what was happening, eliminate Guardian’s sneer from his mind, Vanitas’s laughter in the background, the unresponsive body of Eraqus right behind him. As each bit vanished, faded into the background, it was replaced by another reality, a past one; where Vanitas had yet to exist, and all Terra worried about was how to best complete another lesson.

His feet shifted, found their proper location. Though his spine still seemed arched from withstanding Guardian’s weight, he felt the majority of the force pass straight through his body and exit through his feet. Just as it should.

His knees popped as he forced his legs straighter. It was too sudden for Guardian, and his darker half stumbled back. But he wouldn’t be put off for long. Before he could counter, however, Terra wrenched his keyblade away, and the light surrounding it swelled–

The keyblade slammed back to the ground, the white light softly fading. The blade was longer now, more or less the same colours, but had an additional set of teeth. The handle was rectangular rather than circular; the shaft narrower. The entire thing just seemed lighter and easier to handle. At first, Terra didn’t notice, not until he attacked Guardian and his keyblade reached farther than it should have.

“What . . .?”

 _Ends of the Earth_ , his keyblade whispered. Though it had undeniably changed, the voice still sounded the same as Earthshaker, as if the keyblade had merely put on a coat.

Terra looked up, brandishing his keyblade with renewed confidence. Guardian watched him warily, unsure of how to react. Vanitas, too, had put on a poker face as he measured this change in events. Even with his new keyblade though, Terra still doubted his ability to win.

Suddenly, Vanitas’s head snapped to the side. Pupils slitting like a cat, he snarled, his swearing easily heard. Terra followed his line of sight and there, in the mouth of an alleyway, were Aqua and Ven.


	51. Chapter 51

Aqua whimpered, doing her best to hide behind Ven. Vanitas was right there, she’d lost the leash through no fault of her own, and she wasn’t where he had left her.

He was going to be so mad.

Even with her head turned and Ven firmly between them, she could feel the heat of Vanitas’s glare. The space between them throbbed angrily, nearly buzzing when Vanitas took a step towards her. Ven did little to shield her from his rage.

Suddenly, it was like a weight had been lifted off her. Tension she hadn’t even known existed in her joints faded. Her spine finally allowed her to slump, as if it had been replaced by a metal rod before. Quickly, she realized that this hadn’t happened because she had relaxed or anything, but because Ven had removed his command. She was free to move now. Maybe she could run away, run back to the castle before –

But she’d forgotten Ven could read her thoughts. Before she could even take a step, his loud thought of _NO!_ boomed through her mind.

 _You are not going back there_ , he ordered and clearly, there would be no arguing.

She bowed her head, shivering. When she glanced up, she swore she met Vanitas’s eye. She gulped; maybe if Ven could hear her, Vanitas could, too. So, in her mind, she pleaded with him:

_Please, Vanitas, it’s not my fault. I didn’t want to go. He made me. I wanted to stay. I wanted to be good._

Ven flinched violently, turning to stare at her with nothing less than horror.

“You’ve brought along an audience,” Vanitas remarked, voice hoarse.

Before Ven spun around, Aqua saw him snarl. “You had her _tied to your_ _bed_!”

Vanitas shrugged. “I wanted to keep her out of the way. You don’t want her to be collateral damage, do you?”

While Ven went rigid, another figure sidled up beside Vanitas: Terra. But why were there two of them?

Yes, she saw two. One was with Vanitas, the other was standing near a bunch of rubble. They were the same height, possessed the same build, and from this distance, the only difference she could make out between them were their keyblades. And their eyes. The Terra next to Vanitas shared his gold eyes. The other Terra had blue eyes.

“Where’s Sora?” Ven demanded.

Vanitas grinned. “Also out of the way.”

As he spoke, the blue-eyed Terra picked his way towards her and Ven. His keyblade dragged behind him, sleeker and longer than it normally was. He and Ven spoke silently, saying everything they needed to with a look, until Terra nodded his head and turned to her.

She cringed. She didn’t trust him. After all that had happened, she didn’t trust either of them. They would hurt her, even if they didn’t mean to, even if she was good.

Vanitas didn’t. Vanitas was only mean when she was bad.

“Aqua . . .” She couldn’t move as Terra put his hands on her shoulders. “The Master’s pretty hurt.”

“M-master?” she croaked. Other than Vanitas, he was the only one she had left.

Terra nodded solemnly. “He’s over there,” he pointed to a crumbled building. “Why don’t you go check on him?”

She studied his face, trying to figure out if he was lying. Even if he was though, what did she have to lose? It would still get her away from Ven and Terra, and then they wouldn’t be able to make Vanitas get mad at her anymore.

The Master really was there. Just like Terra had stated, he didn’t look so good. He was unconscious, skin pale, clothes caked with grime although she saw no obvious injuries. Just in case though, she ran her fingers over his bones, searching for the dampness of an open wound or a bump that would indicate a break. There were a couple of irregularities on his left arm, so she healed those.

The air rung. She looked over her shoulder to see the four fighting, Vanitas against Ven, and Terra versus his other self. Vanitas and Ven, both nimble on their feet, moved so swiftly, struck so suddenly, it was hard to tell what was going on, let alone who was winning.

Master Eraqus moaned, drawing her attention. He was on his stomach so when his mouth finally drifted open, he ended up tasting dust. That woke him, and as he spluttered, his chin lifted off the ground. Unfocused, his eyes rolled upwards, finally settling on her. Even then, they roved her face, as if struggling to recognize it.

“Aqua?”

“Master.” He had his shoulders off the ground, and that was enough for her to squeeze in for a hug. Like a child, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, transferring dirt from his skin to hers. She held him tight, keeping her eyes shut, using him as a shield against what evils lay out there.

“Shh . . .” He rubbed her back. She could feel his chest heaving, hear his exhaustion. Yet when he finally caught sight of his other two apprentices fighting, he immediately went rigid. He tried to stand, but Aqua only held on tighter, weighing him down.

“Master . . .” She buried her face in his chest. She didn’t want him to fight; she didn’t want him to leave her.

“We’re here for you,” the Master said. “We are going to take you away from here.”

What? She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to go.”

He said nothing at first, merely nodding and making a meaningless grunt. Finally, he asked, “And why is that?”

“I’m safe here,” she whispered. “Vanitas protects me.”

“Is that so? But would I not protect you?”

She said nothing.

Eraqus sighed. “What happened to you, Aqua? What happened to the brave girl I know? Has it not always been your desire to become a Keyblade Master? Tell me, what has become of that?”

“I can’t . . .” A tear leaked out. “I’m not good for anything.”

Against her back, the Master’s hand suddenly became a fist. “Don’t say that, Aqua,” he grated out. “Never say that.”

But she did. “I’m not strong enough,” she whispered. “I can’t do anything.”

“There is no shame in relying on your friends,” Eraqus said. “And just because you cannot slay a god does not make you weak. Aqua, for Terra and Ven, you are the light in their heart. That is why they fight for you. Forget these foolish theories that Vanitas has told you. Whatever he feels for you, it is the same as they.”

Her forehead fell against his chest. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know.”

“ . . .They hurt me.”

He took a moment, jaw working, though nothing came out. “They love you, Aqua,” he finally said. “That does not mean your friendship will be without hardship; all paths have their hurdles. Just like you, we are not perfect.”

She said. “Vanitas says I won’t get hurt anymore. He says he can protect me.”

“And what kind of life would that be?” Eraqus asked. “You would be behind bars, a bird in a golden cage. Never again to taste freedom or choice. Do you truly want that?”

Before she could answer, Ven yelped. Both of them stiffened, staring at the site of the sound. Not far from them, Ven was struggling to stand, like a turtle that had been placed on its back. Grin triumphant, Vanitas marched towards him, X-Blade ready.

“Ven!” Blue-eyed Terra lunged, but the golden-eyed version of him pulled him down from behind. Scrambling for a hold, yelling himself hoarse, he remained oblivious when the golden-eyed Terra sunk his claws deep into his back.

“Get up, Ventus!” the Master hissed. He staggered to his feet, standing unsteadily.

As if he had heard, Ven rose. With his keyblade as a crutch, he wobbled before Vanitas, growing stiff with alarm. Vanitas continued smirking, lifting the X-Blade for one final blow.

It happened so fast. Eraqus roared, “ _No_!” and then he was off, like a rocket, a white streak. The X-Blade was brought back and up, glinting as it hung above Vanitas’s head for one shining moment, then flashed forwards.

Metal shrieked.

Just like that, it was over. From where he stood in front of Ven, Master Eraqus lurched, bending over the X-Blade embedded in his gut, the X-Blade his armour had done little to defend against. Blood seeped from his body, like an barrel that had just struck a leak.

Time stopped. All of them, even Vanitas, could only stare with their mouths hanging open. Blood continued to ooze down the metal suit, and a drop detached itself from the rest, falling to the ground with what seemed to be a resounding _drip_. Snow tumbled, highlighting the stillness of Eraqus, his attacker, and the apprentice he had saved.

“M-master?” Ven stammered.

His body still bent, the Master’s head turned slowly, almost creaking as it did. He held Ven’s gaze for a long second.

He fell to his knees.

“Master!” Fears forgotten, Aqua ran across the icy ground, snow swirling around her. She gathered up Master Eraqus before he crumbled completely, ripping off his helmet and tossing it aside. If his face had been slack before, it was nothing compared to this. He managed only a indecipherable moan; the rest of his energy seemed to be invested in breathing.

“Master, please!” She cradled his face, forcing him to look at her. “I can’t lose you.”

“Aqua . . .” Behind her, Vanitas took a step forwards.

At once, Ven rushed at him. “No, stay away -!”

One swing of the X-Blade, and Ven went flying.

She gasped, pitching in his direction. No! She couldn’t lose another.

“Aqua, shh . . .” Quickly, Vanitas knelt next to her, cupping her cheek. “It’s okay. Aqua, everything’s going to be okay.”

She met his stare, and then glanced at the X-Blade. The edges glistened with blood.

“Y-you hurt him.”

“No. No, no, no!” He grabbed her other cheek. “It’s not like that, Aqua. I didn’t want to do it, but he left me no choice. He was going to take you away. I had to do it!”

She understood what he thought, but she could tell that Vanitas didn’t understand the severity of what he had done. She knew Vanitas was wrong. “He wasn’t going to hurt me!” she blubbered. “He just wanted me to be happy. And you . . .”

His voice was high with desperation. “Aqua!”

“No!” She pulled away from him. “You hurt him, and you’re . .. you’re trying to kill them, too!”

She pointed first at Ven, who still hadn’t quite recovered from Vanitas’s blow; then she gestured to the two Terras, who had stopped fighting each other to watch.

“Aqua, they’re the bad guys!” Vanitas hissed. “They betrayed you, remember? Remember what they did to you?”

“No.” She pushed herself to her feet. Stormfall flashed into her hand, giving her silent support. “They hurt me, but I won’t let you kill them.”

Vanitas stood, too. “Aqua, stop this! Don’t you remember what I told you? They can’t be trusted. They just want to use you! They don’t love you, they–”

“Bullshit!” To everyone’s surprise, that was _Ven_. “Of course we love her! She’s our best friend. No, wait, she’s more than that; she’s family!”

“Aqua . . .” She could see herself reflected in Vanitas’s gold eyes. “They’re just going to betray you in the end. Leave you again. Are you really going to put yourself through that?”

“Don’t listen to him!” That was Terra, his words coming in short bursts as he started to grapple with the other him. “Aqua, please! We love you. And I . . . I c-can’t–”

The other Terra slammed the blue-eyed Terra’s ground into the ground at that moment, muffling him.

“Aqua, please!” Ven begged. “You have to believe us.”

She took a step back. Their voices, all of them, swam through her head, mixing together until each was indistinguishable from the rest. Each were the same, pledging their undying love for her, and she clamped her hands over her ears. She didn’t understand what to do . . .

Master Eraqus grabbed her ankle.

“Aqua, please.”

That was all he said. He did not beg, did not offer his opinion, or contest the others, or try to sway her. He simply said those two words, trusting her to make the right decision.

She closed her eyes. “They hurt me . . .”

She heard Vanitas’s breath hitch in relief.

“ . . . But they’re still my friends.” She opened her eyes and looked straight at Vanitas. “I won’t let you kill them.”

Behind her, Eraqus sighed in relief. Terra and Ven, too, exhaled, Ven staring up at the foggy sky as if the conflict had finally ended. Only Vanitas had a different reaction. At first he merely stared at her with disbelief. Then, he began breathing heavily, deeply, growling. The lines around his eyes tightened; his cheeks pinched.

“You . . .” he snarled.

And she knew right away she had stepped into the danger zone.

“ _You’re not leaving me_!” he roared.

Master Eraqus tried to help, but Vanitas literally trampled him. Stormfall was no match for the X-Blade and before she could think of anything more than parrying, it was yanked out of her hands. Carelessly, he tossed the keyblades aside, the X-Blade impaling Stormfall through the handle. He slammed into her, throwing her off her feet and onto the ground, and then his hands went around her neck.

Ven shouted. She tried to scream too, but Vanitas had cut off her air. She couldn’t even gurgle as the black crept in around her vision, darkening everything except for Vanitas’s eyes.

He was lifted off her, and thrown across the street. Terra, the golden-eyed one, howled, beating his chest before his knuckles smashed down on one side of her. With his hands on one side and his feet on the other, he was crouched over her like a tigress defending her cubs. And though a golden-eyed Terra was one she associated with darkness, with violence and destruction, she was not afraid. Because Terra, no matter his state of mind, would always defend her.

“You traitor!” Vanitas spat. “I’ll kill you!”

Terra, with his fanged smiled, seemed eager to accept that challenge.

“You attacked me,” Aqua said. She wasn’t angry, but she suspected that it hadn’t really sunk in yet.

“I . . .” She could see the gears in his head turning as he groped for an explanation.

“You attacked me,” she repeated. Above her, Terra growled.

“Don’t try to turn this back on me!” he barked. “Did you forget that I’ve been the one looking after you this whole time? That’s more than you can say for any of them – even Master Eraqus. Who was it that risked his life to save you from the stake? Who was it that protected you from Terra and Ventus in the Pridelands? If they loved you so much, then where were they when you were in the asylum, or when that man attacked you in the alley . . .?”

She interrupted. “You know about that?”

Vanitas hesitated.

She went on. “You were there . . . but you didn’t help?”

“Of course I wasn’t there!” he scoffed. “I heard about it after. I know what he tried to do to you.”

She frowned. How? The man had died, and she hadn’t told anyone what had really happened. So how could word spread?

She saw him suddenly, in her mind: that pink-haired man, wearing a pleasant, almost paternal smile as he attacked her; saw that black cloak that covered his body. She heard his words again, felt his lips right next to her ears . . .

“ . . . _I have my orders_.”

And just like that, with a scary certainty, she knew.

“It was you,” she breathed. “You set me up.”

“No!” Vanitas stumbled forwards, ignoring Terra’s warning snarl. “Aqua, you’re wrong!”

But she wasn’t. “Why . . .?” she asked.

And it all flashed in front of her: the pink-haired man’s attack and cryptic words; a magical barrier going up at the asylum as she tried to escape; the lights flickering and going out, and the door being barred from the outside. Even the incident at the stake, where although Vanitas had saved her, he had waited until the _last possible second_. It was all him. Everything that had happened to her was connected to him. All along, he had been the puppeteer, pulling the strings of the people around her to force her into his desired role.

“You lied to me,” she said quietly. “It was you the whole time. You tricked me.”

“Aqua, I -!”

“No!” she snapped, the taste of anger foreign to her tongue. “I’m done letting you control my life. I’m not falling for your tricks anymore!”

The game was over. She knew it, and could tell Vanitas knew it, too. But though she had won this battle, by no means had she won the war.

He smirked. “Fine. Whatever.”

His words were the complete opposite of what she knew he was thinking, and that made her blood run cold.

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” he said casually. “Once I absorb Ventus – once I _kill_ him – his light will be my light. His control over you will be mine. Your body, heart, mind, it will be _mine_! And by the time I’m through with you, you won’t even remember their names.”

The threat was chilling, even more so because Aqua knew he would go through with it. It was enough to make the golden-eyed Terra bristle, enough for the other Terra to run up to her, and for Ven to stop healing the Master to join him.

“Over our dead bodies!” blue-eyed Terra shouted. He and his clone, along with Ven, all took their keyblades up.

As one, the three charged.

As one, the three were taken down.

With hardly any effort on Vanitas’s part, the X-Blade’s swing carried all of them right off their feet, the X-Blade not even slowing. The three rolled to a stop a yard away, groaning and gasping for breath.

“Did you forget who I am?” Vanitas hollered. “I’m not just Ventus’s other half or the god of Silent Hill anymore. I’m the god of the entire _universe_. The X-Blade is in my hands, the power of Kingdom Hearts is mine to control!”

“Wanna bet?”

Sora leapt off a rooftop, landing between Vanitas and his fallen opponents. He held Kingdom Key tight in his hands, twirling it.

“You?” Vanitas chuckled. “You’re going to beat me.”

“Not me,” Sora said. “But Kairi will.”


	52. Chapter 52

Vanitas broke out into bales of laughter and despite himself, Ven found himself echoing an similar sentiment. As fond as he was of Sora and as much as he admired his determination, now really wasn’t the time for his infatuation with Kairi to rear its head. It didn’t even make sense; Kairi was currently a comatose corpse way back at the Mysterious Tower. She wasn’t going do much fighting.

Tell that to Sora, though. Every inch of his body spoke of his trust in the girl he had mentioned. There was no fear there, no doubt that he was anything but right. Maybe his mind had finally snapped.

“Oh, really?” Vanitas drawled. “Uh, did you hit your head and forget what I did to her last time we fought?”

“She’s not going to let you do this!” Sora insisted.

“Heh.” Vanitas crossed his arms behind his head. “And how is she going to stop me?”

“Because you need her!” Sora said. “She’s the light allowing you to create the X-Blade. You can’t have it without her.”

The smile dropped. Ven would be pressed to say Vanitas looked nervous, but he certainly no longer appeared smug. In a low voice, Vanitas demanded, “How did you find that out?”

“I heard things,” Sora said, shrugging awkwardly.

Vanitas sighed, uncrossing his arms so that he could rub his chin. “Looks like your friend doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

“No, it wasn’t Riku!” Now Sora was the one to have things turned against him. “Riku didn’t know!”

“Well, these idiots,” Vanitas gestured to everyone else, “definitely didn’t know, so I don’t know who else it could be.”

Vanitas grinned viciously. “Tell me, Sora: how’s Riku faring with one eye? Think he’s ready to try none?”

Sora choked. “Kairi, please, don’t let him do this!”

Vanitas clucked his tongue. “Oh, Sora. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I wasn’t forcing her into doing this? That maybe . . . she _wanted_ to help me?”

A bright light surrounded him, the sort of light that would mark the descent of an angel. Before they could blink, it was no longer Vanitas standing there, but a girl with red hair. She had gentle, warm blue eyes, like Naminé or Aqua. Her smile was one that could make any unwary man weak to the knees. With her hair fanning out around her, as if she was caught in a windstorm, she extended a hand.

“Sora,” Kairi said, “it’s okay. I’m happy.”

At that last sentence, a band tightened around Ven’s stomach. Ven spurred into action. “Sora, wait!”

But Sora didn’t need him. “You’re not Kairi,” he said, sounding bemused over the idea that he could ever be tricked by that. “Kairi would never do what you’re doing!”

The light faded. Vanitas was back, smirking. “It would be pathetic if you fell for that,” he admitted.

“Kairi,” Sora took a step forwards, “listen to me: you have to fight him!”

Vanitas laughed again. “Oh, Sora. Don’t you see? She lost a long, long time ago. Scream all you want; there isn’t a thing she can do to help you.”

“That’s a lie!” Sora’s hand swiped through the air. “Kairi’s one of the bravest people I know. She would never give up!”

“Like Riku?” Vanitas said sweetly.

The taunt rolled off Sora’s back. “Kairi, please, I know you’re in there. You have to help us!”

Vanitas keeled over at the waist, laughing hysterically. Seeing him, seeing Sora desperately plead with his lost friend, it tore Ven’s heart in two. He went to comfort Sora, squeezing his shoulder even as the other boy continued to shout at Vanitas.

“Sora, it’s no use,” he said.

Sora whirled around. “That’s not true!”

Vanitas, seeing his foes fighting amongst themselves, chuckled.

“Sora . . .”

Sora turned back to Vanitas. “Kairi, you have to fight! I’m not giving up on you, just like you wouldn’t give up on me.”

“You . . .” Vanitas began. He took a deep breath, savouring the moment. “ . . . are an absolute moron.”

“You’re a bully,” Sora countered, “and you’re not going to get away with this. Kairi, please, it’s me, Sora. Me and Riku need your help. We can’t do this without you.”

“And you . . .”

Vanitas abruptly stopped talking. He was glowing again, just like before, only this time no illusions appeared. Unless, of course, that expression of his – one of _pain_ \- was actually the illusion. His eyes nearly bugged out, and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

“Kairi, please!” Biting back a sob, Sora held his hand out. “Come home.”

The glow intensified, right over Vanitas chest . . .

And with a sparkle, Kairi’s heart emerged.

Amazed, Ven could only murmur, “Sora . . .”

Gold eyes sharpened. With one quick snarl, Vanitas lunged forwards. The strands of his bodysuit unravelled themselves, wrapping tight around Kairi’s heart before pulling it into the boy’s chest again. Eyes bulging, keeled over at the waist, Vanitas gasped for breath, a beat away from collapsing onto his hands and knees.

Ven took a deep breath. Vanitas was vulnerable.

It was time.

Warmth flooded him. The aches in his legs were sapped away, as if sucked out by a tube. When he rolled his shoulders, they cracked but otherwise answered eagerly, ready to fight. At first, he was confused, but then he saw Aqua pointing her keyblade at him. She turned to the two Terras next, healing what few wounds they had, then directed her attention to Eraqus.

Ven wrenched his gaze away, and met Vanitas’s glower.

Ven pushed ahead of Sora, wielding Lost Memories. His keyblade of light was ready, almost excited to go up against Vanitas. Ven braced himself, angled his keyblade for a block –

Vanitas teleported.

“Huh?” He waited, but Vanitas did not reappear. Nor did he strike.

“There!”

Vanitas had reappeared away from all of them, as if scared. As he should be. For Sora had shown them how to counter Vanitas, and though they had told themselves this all along, now was the time it finally sunk in:

Vanitas wasn’t invincible.

“Sora, call to Kairi again,” Ven said.

Sora nodded. For the first time, he looked hopeful.

But Vanitas had anticipated this, and no sooner than Sora had opened his mouth, did he attack. A shockwave knocked them all off their feet, momentarily stunning them, giving Vanitas more than enough time to point the X-Blade skywards. Kingdom Hearts gleamed, and then a pillar of pure energy fell from the king of all hearts onto its champion, filling the air with waves of heat.

At this, Ven’s heart stopped. “No!”

The pillar swelled, encasing Vanitas until all that could be seen was his shadow.

A flash.

The pillar was sucked back into the sky, taking Vanitas with it.

Kingdom Hearts turned black.

Clouds rushed in, hiding the heart-shaped moon from their sights. The skies rumbled ominously, almost as if they were chuckling. And Ven became aware of an encroaching darkness, one creeping up on them from all sides.

 _Screeech_.

The Bogeyman lurched out of the fog, Great Knife right behind it. The tip of its helmet looked to be sharpened, and the rust had faded off the blade. He thought it had, at least, but it was hard to tell past all the blood.

“No!” Sora backpedalled, shaking.

Terra exhaled deeply, forcing himself to relax, then glanced at his dark half. The darker side of Terra growled; it appeared that despite his former alliance with Vanitas, he disliked the Bogeyman just as much as the rest of them.

A raspy chuckle escaped the monster, like the hacks of a smoker. The Bogeyman let go of its knife, raised his arms and the fog receded. One by one, rooftops came into view, and with them, the monsters aboard.

Ven took a step back. “Holy . . .”

They were crowded onto every inch, each grinning and adding to the Bogeyman’s chuckle with their own hyena-like laughter. Clawed and fanged, skin rough and solid, they resembled gargoyles with the same demonic faces. On the ground, lying figures staggered out into the open, and hounds howled in the distance.

Thunder boomed.

The final battle had begun.

“What do we do now?” Sora asked.

Ven said nothing. He looked from Sora, who was waiting for reassurance, to Terra whose face had finally twisted in fear, to Aqua who had gone pale, and to his Master, still limp despite her best efforts. He knew with absolutely no doubt that they would lose. So long as Vanitas was up there in Kingdom Hearts, free to infinitely direct and spawn his forces, it was inevitable.

So long as Vanitas was up there, he could not be touched.

Ven reached up, a childish part of him hoping that Kingdom Hearts would reach back down and take him by the hand, carry him into its midst. But he was only light. Kingdom Hearts did not recognize him as its chosen.

“I don’t know,” Ven said. He let Lost Memories drop. Even if they fled, Vanitas would only follow. His reach extended everywhere now.

“Don’t say that,” Terra warned. “I’m not going down. Not like this.”

No one responded.

Terra’s darker half whined. Sitting on his knuckles, he plucked at Ven’s sleeve. Sluggishly, Ven met the golden-eyed stare, his own blank and uncomprehending.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do . . .”

And it hit him. His eyes widened. As he was filled him with the uplifting sensation of hope, the air changed. The others stared at him, sensing it.

“Hold out,” Ven told them. “Hold out as long as you can.”

“What are you doing?” Aqua asked.

He brought Lost Memories back. “I’m going to end this!”

And with that, he thrust forwards.

Straight into the dark Terra’s heart.

Darkness flowed into him, dripping and slow like molasses. It felt like he was being consumed from the top up, like he was diving into freezing water or a veil was settling over him. Terra’s darkness slowly infiltrated his veins, making him cool like he had been glazed in ice. He gasped as the chill pierced his heart, and dropped his keyblade which began to glow. The keyblade grew, sharpened, elongated into a twin of the X-Blade, glinting as it awaited his hand.

“Ven . . .!”

Ven smiled apologetically, staring at the light of his best friend. “Sorry, Terra, but I need this.”

Breathless, Terra nodded. “Just . . . just give it back afterwards, okay?”

“Of course. Keep safe. All of you”

He picked his X-Blade up, and pointed it at the sky. A white beam shot upwards, forcing the clouds to separate once again.

Kingdom Hearts brightened, recognizing him, then responded with power of its own. And he felt himself being lifted, up, _up –_

* * *

The inside of Kingdom Hearts was a world of its own. Not a unique one, however. Rather, it was very, very familiar. It wasn’t a perfect copy of one world, per say, but more the worse form of plagiarism, where one had lifted bits and pieces from dozens of books and stuffed them all into one work. Everything originated elsewhere; the world was a jigsaw of the ones it watched over. It was almost sweet, like a mother hanging photos of her children.

The sky was the colour of a sunset, though no celestial bodies could be found. But the world was as bright as midday. He strolled through the shadow of Big Ben, and underneath a willow tree with a woman’s face. How the tree survived he had no idea, since the ground was made of clouds. Still that didn’t seem to stop castles from resting safely on the white fluff, or dissuade a replica of Atlantica’s underwater palace. It was probably best not to think about physics here.

But where was Vanitas . . .?

He looked around, eyes settling on one building, then marched towards that.

He pushed open the doors to Silent Hill’s church.

Though the actual building had always been worn down, this version was not. A halo surrounded the center altar, where a crisp, unblemished tome awaited. The pews were polished, reflecting a shadow of his face. Above, the stained-glass windows glimmered in the light.

There, facing those windows, sitting on the altar, was Vanitas. Ven couldn’t see what he was doing from here, but it looked like he was holding something close to him. The X-Blade lay carelessly at his side.

Ven took a step forward.

Vanitas jumped and spun around. “How are you here?” he demanded.

Ven shrugged, keeping his face blank. “Thanks for splitting Terra,” he deadpanned.

Vanitas looked momentarily shocked, but wiped it away. “No matter. I’ll just kill you here. You’re all alone now, Ventus. No one’s coming to save you this time.”

He kept his hands empty, refused to rise to Vanitas’s taunts. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“Easy for you to say!” Vanitas snapped. “Everything always went your way. You got everything, and left me with nothing!”

“That’s not my fault!” he cried. “I didn’t know. I couldn’t even remember you until Silent Hill.”

“Well, let’s make up for lost time, then.” Vanitas tried to hold the X-Blade over his head like he would Void Gear, but it was too awkward. “Keep still, and I’ll make this as painless as I can.”

In his core, Ven’s own X-Blade hummed, sensing a threat to its Master. It was time, then. Time to end this once and for all.

But half of him resisted. While his light still stood with him, loathed Vanitas with all its strength, Terra’s darkness _pitied._ **_Not_ _yet_ , **it whispered. **_We don’t have to fight_**.

“What are you talking about?” he murmured. “That’s the whole reason we’re here.”

 ** _He is wicked_** , the darkness agreed, **_but not purely evil. He cared for us, for her, even if he was cruel. There is still good inside him._**.

Eyes closed, Ven said, “No one has to die. There’s always another option.”

“Another option!” Vanitas’s X-Blade smacked the ground. “What, that I just walk away and let you keep everything again?”

He ignored the churning in his gut, listening instead to the steady buzz of the darkness’s whispers. “You said it yourself, Vanitas. We can share.”

Vanitas’s face brightened. “You’re going to let me keep her?”

“It can be even better than that,” Ven said. He walked forwards, gesturing to everything in a sweeping motion. “Give this up. Give up the X-Blade and Silent Hill, and come back with us. That’s what you really want, right? Not all this power, not the title of god . . . but a family. I can’t give you back the years Master Xehanort stole from you, but I can give you a home.”

He lifted his hand, holding it out to Vanitas. “It’s not too late to make things right.”

Vanitas stared at his outstretched hand, paralyzed. Slowly, as if he wasn’t in control of his body, his right arm rose. Fingers uncurled, reaching for Ven’s open hand. For a moment, in Vanitas’s eyes, there was not evil or cruelty, but the hopeful gleam of a little boy watching his dreams come true . . .

And it was gone. Vanitas sneered, wrenching his arm back to his side. “Nice try,” he said, “but there’s no way I’m letting you live after everything you did to me.”

 _He didn’t accept_. Ven struggled not to cry, because for one shining moment, he really thought it would work. Terra’s darkness mumbled something, the flavour of its emotions something like disappointment, then settled back inside his heart, preparing for the battle.

“Now,” Vanitas said, “let’s begin.”

He spread his arms wide, like a preacher shouting into the winds. The roof to the church opened up, exposing a pink sky. And Vanitas flew up and beyond, straight out of the church.

Ven blinked. How . . .?

Right. Physics wasn’t exactly in effect here.

He’d flown before, hadn’t he, in Neverland? He went back to that time, captured the swooping sensation of having no ground under his feet, and forced his body to mimic it.

Just like that, he, too, was airborne.

He spend a few seconds tumbling and flipping, just for fun. But soon enough, destiny beckoned and he turned his eyes to the open roof above.

He went after Vanitas.

His heart pounded out a steady beat. He flew up, up, ending with a flip as he jerked to a stop. It was weird being afloat; his legs hung loosely, unsure what to do or where to place themselves. Though it was completely unnecessary, he held his arms out for balance, the slope of the ground far below making him dizzy. Was he tilted? He thought he might have been.

It was crisp, fresh air he breathed, sweet and delightful as it tickled his nose. He and Vanitas were the only living creatures here, perhaps the only beings to ever see this place. There was no wind, nor food, nor water. He had the feeling all of those were unnecessary here.

Across from him, a blot in the radiant sky, Vanitas waited. His helmet, as it mostly had been lately, was absent, thankfully. Ven was sure that had it been present, the reflection off it would have made it hard to see. Surrounded by such brilliant light, Vanitas’s bodysuit couldn’t help but claim some for its own, so that its host appeared to wear sleek metal. It was like a knight in shining armour, and with that X-Blade at his side, Vanitas resembled the part completely.

Except Vanitas wasn’t exactly on the side of good.

Vanitas’s canines showed as he smiled, like a vampire. His eyes were the devil’s, splattered with sparks of malice, dancing with madness. It was the sort of crazed appearance of one who had gone into a berserk rage, though Ven had yet to hear any howling or see any foam.

It happened without warning. One moment they were both floating there, studying each other, breathes caught in their throat, waiting for some divine sign to announce their brawl. But Vanitas, ever the impatient one, merely clicked his tongue and went for it. With X-Blade pointed ahead of him, heralding his arrival, he became a black comet, a wave of darkness radiating from him and staining the pure sky. Too fast to see, too fast to counter, he would be impossible to defend against.

Unless, of course, his foe just happened to be an X-Blade wielder, too.

Neither light nor darkness announced the summoning of the X-Blade’s; it would have been a perfect stealth weapon had it not been for the massive size. And though the weapon was longer than Ven was tall, it carried no weight. He and Vanitas bounced off each other with a hollow ring, like a bell stricken with a hammer. Moving as fast as he was, by the time the X-Blades touched each other, Vanitas was too far past to attack.

Vanitas tumbled, head-over-heels, ending up so that he faced Ven again. With no visible signal, he went from motionless to top speed in a matter of seconds. Ven bolted upwards, Vanitas hot on his trail, arms out like a bird and X-Blade pointed backwards.

In mid-air, he whipped around, feet level and flat as if about to push off a wall. There were none up here, of course, but the result was the same. He catapulted at Vanitas, wind wailing past his ears, X-blade pointed . . .

They clashed again. Vanitas twisted his weapon so that Ven and his X-Blade slid down and away. Sparks smacked them in the face, singing their eyebrows, peppering their skin with pinpricks of pain. Again, before Ven could really register that they collided, Vanitas was flying in the other direction, though that wouldn’t be for long.

As one, they turned, seeking each other like magnets. This time, Ven dodged, leaving them. Their next flurry of strikes echoed like thunder across the empty world, the gleam off their blades being the lightning. In his veins, Ven’s blood rushed furiously, creating its own war cry that droned on and on in his mind. Again and again, they rushed together, mingling for one blink of an eye before parting. With each clash, they only grew more frustrated.

The blades screeched. Quite suddenly, they were locked together, hurtling through space. Over the edge of his X-Blade, Ven could see the upper half of Vanitas’s head. The golden eyes didn’t blink, but simmered, like molten gold. Vanitas’s hair, too, remained still.

Then, Ven saw the corner of a smirk. Vanitas planted his feet on Ven’s chest, then pushed off, flying skywards.

“What the . . .?” A small smile fit itself onto his face. Had Vanitas chickened out . . .?

“Whoa!” He was fortunate to look right then, to realize he was flying headfirst into Big Ben. He twisted just in time, landing on the tower’s side where gravity chose to ignore him. Standing on the building’s side was surreal, and it took him a few moments to get used to it.

But where was Vanitas?

Something roared. A storm of noise, like a million cracking items, invaded his ears. Higher-pitched sounds, zapping sounds, interjected, shrill in their intensity. Big Ben buckled, and then something – a shotlock, a spell, he didn’t know what it was but it was powerful – tore open the wall below him.

And Big Ben began to fall.

He yelped as the structure gave way. The top half of the tower – his half – broke from the bottom and plummeted downwards, to the cloud-covered ground that Ven was willing to bet was still hard. He pushed, getting a little bit of space, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

It became apparent quickly that he could not outrace it, nor did he have the time to fly to either side and escape that way. Grimacing, clenching his teeth, Ven looked all around, evaluating his various options, struggling to remain calm even as the ground loomed closer and closer.

There was only one way to go.

The X-Blade cared not for limitations, for the natural boundaries of its owner. When Ven turned, flew _up_ , it ripped through wood, concrete and steel like they were paper. A cone of flaming debris soon accompanied him, failing to live up to the light the X-Blade emitted. He had to squint, lest the embers scorch his eyes. And within that sliver of sight, he saw naught but a rainfall of dust.

He broke out of the clock’s face, sending the hour hand, once positioned delicately over the nine, spinning into the air. Where the tip of Big Ben had once been, Vanitas now hovered, seeming only a little bothered that Ven had survived. Vanitas whipped his X-Blade up, clouds flocking above him and going black, before pointing straight at Ven.

Lightning was quick, but with the X-Blade’s power, Ven was quicker. He zipped this way and that, guided only by intuition, with electricity hissing all around him, weaving upwards towards the center of the storm where his foe awaited. A yellow beam left his weapon, angled so that it would appear like it was going to miss Vanitas, only to curve inwards at the last second.

This time, when they met, they didn’t separate immediately. They exchanged a few blows, each one vibrating through their body, making them wobble in strange ways. And Vanitas drew back, held his weapon up and over his shoulder, where the shaft lengthened and became a long, white sabre.

It hit him with all the force of a rampaging bull. Ven’s vision darkened along the edges; Vanitas split into two, fuzzy figures. His limbs didn’t quite obey, wouldn’t move properly to stop his descent. Distantly, he saw the ground approaching and a faint alarm went off.

A Barrier spell provided some protection. As it broke against the cloudy ground, it bent inwards, forcing Ven to slow, before shattering completely. He skipped along the ground, casting a new barrier every time, until he slowed enough that his ball-shaped shield rolled instead of cracked.

Just in time. Vanitas dove, X-Blade impaling the ground where Ven had been. In protest, the clouds underneath crackled and went grey. Vanitas’s white sabre had vanished, leaving the regular X-Blade behind. Ven lunged, attacking, rolling under Vanitas’s blade and emerging on the other side with a narrowly-deflected swipe.

He leapt back. A few metres behind him, there lay what appeared to be a giant elephant skull, its twin tusks reaching for the sky. He called upon the earth magic Terra so cherished, splitting the bone into chunks, then upon his faithful wind magic to throw them at Vanitas. The dark boy side-stepped easily, moving so fast it was like he teleported. For the last chunk, he leapt straight at it, slicing it in two, just because he could, apparently.

Ven somersaulted into the sky, leaving Vanitas below as the first traces of uncertainty trickled into his soul. He had yet to make any kind of meaningful mark, although judging by how fresh and energetic he felt, so did Vanitas.

If anything, it was like a laser fight, what happened yet. With Vanitas behind, they shot at each other, neither connecting. Flying backwards, head turned as to try and see both ahead and behind him, Ven weaved around the golden bell of Notre Dame, adopting that as his shield. The bell rung as a shot – his or Vanitas’s, who could tell? – smashed into it, but did not break. Floating just above the bell’s lip, he rounded a bend sharply, taking a shot at Vanitas and then zipping back. Cat and mouse ensured, with both of them too swift and agile for either to get the advantage.

Until Ven had the idea to simply bash the bell. With the X-Blade’s might, it had no chance, and rocked to the other side, stopping abruptly when it rammed Vanitas. That was it! Ven scrambled to the top of the bell, spying Vanitas on the other side, and lunged.

Maybe the X-Blade had given them super-strength, maybe their fight it had damaged the wood underneath them, or maybe all these structures were merely echoes of the real ones, weaker. Whatever the reason, they broke right through roof of Notre Dame, tearing a chandelier right off its foundations. Light bounced off the glass shards, swathing them with rays of rainbow light. He drove Vanitas right into the next floor, cracking that too, rewarded with a jolt as glass tore into the other boy’s back.

As they went through the next level, he clung to Vanitas, even as the dark boy kicked and scratched. By the time they reached the next floor, they’d lost enough speed from the first two collision for the beams to finally hold.

“Bastard!” Vanitas kicked him in the stomach, mask sliding over his head to protect against fist-to-fist combat. Too close now for weapons, they instead grappled as if they’d changed into lions again.

A fist smashed into Ven’s nose, breaking the dam inside. Down his nasal passage, his chin and into his throat, blood gurgled, coating his mouth with its metallic tang. He spat up a knot, and the blood stuck on Vanitas’s helmet, smearing when Vanitas wiped it. Like a shark entering a feeding frenzy, Vanitas went straight for Ven’s throat, trying to choke him out as he had in the Enchanted Domain. Ven got a hand free and pushed Vanitas back by his chin, feeling it under his palm.

Ven slid back. Worked himself free. The instant he had enough room, he took up the X-Blade and swung –

Vanitas screamed. He grabbed the left side of his face, turning it away from Ven. Like they were bandages, his fingers came away slowly, revealing unblemished features below.

Ven hadn’t hurt him. But he had burnt off half of Vanitas’s mask.

Growling, Vanitas tossed the now-useless thing aside. Ven had already blasted a hole to the outside, making his escape.

In flight, he turned, bringing up his keyblade just as Vanitas pointed his. Two beams escaped; two beams met. Green against red, they fought for dominance, lighting up the two boys’ faces so they appeared deathly pale. His arm started to tremble, though the X-Blade stayed strong.

Here it was: the decisive moment.

“Argh!” His mouth automatically opened in a scream as the power began to tug at his heart. Darkness and light poured out together, intertwining with the green beam. His began to push forwards, forcing the red back . . .

“ ** _NO_**!”

A pulse. The diameter of Vanitas’s beam swelled, engulfing his –

Ven flew back.

His head cracked against the ground.


	53. Chapter 53

A breeze drifted through the open doors. On its swirls floated green leaves, smelling faintly of the flowers with whom they had once shared a home. Most of these leaves dropped at the threshold, settling among the tiles, but one continued. On and on it went, as if it had a mind of its own. Finally, gravity caught took it, and the leaf floated sideways into a row of pews, landing delicately on a nose. It spent just a moment grounded before an exhale from the open mouth rendered it airborne again.

Ven awoke. He was flat on his back, cradled by the wooden sides of a pew. From his vantage point, he saw naught but the back of the row in front of him. But even that was enough to tell that something was different. The wood was too well maintained to be Silent Hill, yet the room was too dark to be inside Kingdom Hearts. It looked normal.

“Vanitas!” he hissed as his memories caught up with him. He pushed himself into a sitting position, body oddly devoid of aches or pain. Vanitas was nowhere to be found. Furrowing his brow, Ven scanned the area, seeing this room was, indeed, a replica of the church in Silent Hill. The stain-glass windows, each with their own angelic image, welcomed light of their respective colours. The altar was there, but not the tome. Instead, someone had left a sketchbook behind.

How strange . . . but now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Vanitas was still out there, and his friends were still fighting. Turning towards the door, he snapped his arm out to call his X-Blade.

But it didn’t answer.

“Where are you . . . ?” Terra’s darkness still empowered him; he could tell by the ox-like strength that had infused his muscles. But the X-Blade . . . had his light and Terra’s darkness become unbalanced somehow?

No, that wasn’t it. It was much, much worse. Reaching inside himself, he realized that not only was his connection to the X-Blade gone, but also the connection to Lost Memories and Wayward Wind.

It finally hit him.

He must be dead.

“Ven, it’s okay. You don’t need to fight here.”

“Naminé?” He looked over his shoulder. Naminé was standing on the altar, right beside the stand with the sketchbook. Flippantly, she picked it up, not at all the way one should handle a holy object.

He looked at his hands. “Naminé, are we . . .?”

“No,” she said. “We’re still alive. You’ll go back soon.”

“Okay.” He checked out the area again. “So, where is this? And why am I here instead of fighting Vanitas?”

“The church,” she said. “As it once was. And because someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who . . .?”

He froze.

From behind Naminé, a figure had stepped out. She wore a black coat -such a contrast to Naminé’s white – with the hood down, and the cloak covered everything from her shoulders to the bottom of her ankles. But he could see enough.

With his numb lips, he could barely form the word. “X-Xion?”

She smiled. “It’s been a long time, Ven.”

“Xion!”

He leapt at her, throwing all his weight into her small arms. He needed that, needed to touch her and hold her and rub his face against her like a cat. His mind had burst into song, his stomach dipping and dancing with the melody. Her scent, a light flowery one with a feeble undertone of darkness, enthralled him, caressed him until he was dizzy. He was limp against her, useless for holding himself up, although if someone had dropped him now, he doubted he would feel the pain.

Into her neck, he mumbled, “Does this mean . . .?”

“No,” she said, “I’m not alive.”

 _Crack_. There went the dream. His relief, his bliss shattered like a pane of glass, and the shards sliced into his heart. Hearing those words hurt him more than any of Vanitas’s attacks.

“Ven, it’s not your fault!” Xion said. “I was dead long before you and your friends came along.”

“I don’t . . .” He knew he was starting to tear up.

“Don’t,” Xion said softly. “Where I am now, trust me, it’s much better than Silent Hill.”

“I should have saved you,” he said. Tears leaked from his eyes. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

“It was my choice,” she told him. “I knew what would happen to me. Please, Ven, don’t blame yourself for what I chose.”

For a long time, the two of them stood there, holding each other. Ven pressed his body into hers, trying to memorize every curve and edge, knowing that after this, they would probably never see each other again. His tears had ceased, lulled into banishment by Xion’s quiet words.

“You have to go back,” she whispered into his ear. “You have to defeat him; for everyone.”

There it was. He bit his lip as something heavy dropped into his stomach. “I don’t know if I can win,” he whispered. “Vanitas, he’s so strong . . . I don’t think I can beat him by myself.”

“Then don’t!” Her voice rose. “Don’t fight him alone.”

“The others, they can’t get into Kingdom Hearts,” he reminded her.

“That doesn’t mean you’re alone,” Naminé said.

Ven frowned. “What . . .?”

Xion put a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. “Don’t forget who you are, Ven. _What_ you are. Even with Terra’s darkness inside you, you’re still light, Ven.

She worked a finger between his neck and the chain holding his Wayfinder. “And your light, your power . . . it’s always been your friends. Never forget.”

“We’re with you,” Naminé said. “All of us.”

Wordlessly, Ven took control of his Wayfinder back from Xion, holding it up where he could see it. It twinkled like a star, as if agreeing.

“All of you,” he whispered.

His heart jerked suddenly. He cringed as the oddest sensation, one of being peeled and stretched, consumed it. It was not a painful feeling, but still a very uncomfortable one, one that made him feel like the inside of him was somehow expanding.

He looked up at Xion. “What is this?”

“Your awakening,” she whispered. “Vanitas is a god, but he’s always been alone, and that’s why he’s vulnerable.”

Ven nodded. His hand curled close around his Wayfinder as he held it before his heart. “It’s time then,” he said. “Time for me to end this.”

“I believe in you,” Xion said. And she kissed him on the forehead.

He thought it was natural, that he would feel like he was floating after that. But then he realized he actually was floating. The world started to blur, fading into a screen of light. He tried to close his hands, to touch Xion one last time, but they didn’t seem to exist. He was in a void, alone but warm.

He closed his eyes, preparing to truly wake, to face his destiny.

Xion’s voice rang in his mind.

“Be safe.”

* * *

He was tossed into his real body all at once, with hardly any time to adapt to the change. Ven wouldn’t say he was in pain, but he certainly wasn’t comfortable either. His spine creaked when he lifted his head, and his eyelids had to be pried apart.

Like an ink blot upon the snow, Vanitas stood stark along the backdrop of cloudy ground and the sky. He cast a wide shadow, cutting Ven off from the light, and his yellow eyes seemed to glow. Oblivious to the experience Ven had just had, Vanitas strolled towards him leisurely, the tip of his X-Blade dragging. Although Ven had seemed to be in that church for a long time, he knew that in the real world, it must have been only seconds.

Ven let his head drop. He bunched his arms underneath him.

Vanitas stopped a few steps away, hungrily drinking in the sight of his fallen prey. He exhaled once, through his mouth, and muttered, “Finally.”

Ven saw him flinch, rub the space over his heart, probably a reaction to Kairi’s resistance. But she was too weak, her opponent too strong-willed. The X-Blade did not fade, nor did Vanitas hesitate to lift it.

He struck.

Ven rolled out of the way.

“What?” Vanitas exclaimed. His X-Blade stuck out of the spot Ven had been, quivering. Vanitas had a hand wrapped around the handle, but didn’t pull it out, still trying to accept this recent development.

Ven charged.

He, his X-Blade, emitted a white aura that flickered with black. The blade smashed into Vanitas’s gut, driving out a mouthful of bile. As his foe tumbled across the landscape, Ven stood tall. Light and darkness, power, filled every inch of him, begging his cells to borrow it. He felt like an overflowing pitcher, with more content being added every second, only to slosh back out. His Wayfinder shone, somehow managing to sneak out of his clothes, so that it sat foremost on his chest.

Vanitas rolled over to his knees, and his mouth dropped open. “You . . . what . . .?” He clambered to his feet. “How are you . . .?”

Ven did not answer with words. Feet hovering just a foot above the ground, he attacked the grounded Vanitas, swinging once, twice, three times, spinning around his opponent while he did so. On a fifth attempt, he swung true, tearing up Vanitas’s bodysuit across the back. A strangled yelp came from the other boy, the result of pain and a primal determination to hide it.

Ven placed some space between them, still afloat. When Vanitas cursed at him, threatened him with all sorts of horrible things, it floated in one ear and out the other. His mind would consider them for a moment, weigh them, then without fail, toss them aside. He did not feel fear; he did not feel anger. All he knew was a swelling sort of righteous, of courage and strength. Every atom of his body was prepared to fight, wanted to fight. The bonds of his molecules seemed to have tightened, so that he was absolutely unbreakable.

“It’s not too late,” he said softly to his other half. “We can still change this. I won’t let you win, Vanitas, so just take my offer. You can still get the life you dream of. Just swallow your pride, and compromise a little.”

“In your dreams!”

Ven parried the thrust, letting Vanitas’s momentum send the dark boy past him. A quick shotlock to his back was, unfortunately, blocked. But so was Vanitas’s next few attacks, fierce and wild as they were.

Without his prompting, his armour rose to cover him, leaving only his face exposed. With that on his side, Ven caught the shaft of Vanitas’s X-Blade between his arm and chest. Vanitas actually _let go_ of the X-Blade, but it fizzled into nothingness then reappeared in its master’s hands.

Vanitas glared at him with just the tiniest amount of fear. “That attack should have finished you!” he spat, referring to the one that had knocked Ven unconscious in the first place.

“Didn’t you learn last time?” Ven asked. “So long as my friends need me, I’ll never stay down. They have become a part of my heart . . . and I a part of theirs. You can’t defeat me without defeating them.”

“Your friends are in a different world,” Vanitas said. “Practically a different universe. They’re not going to be much help here!”

That was a statement which he didn’t need words to answer. Ven merely held up the chain of his Wayfinder, letting the trinket, the symbol Vanitas craved, show clearly to his other half.

“It doesn’t matter where we are,” Ven said, “we’re always connected. They are my power, and I will not let them down!”

His heart, already strung tight, stretched even more –

And something inside him broke.

A warm tide engulfed his insides, caressing them tenderly before spilling out through his pores. Though Ven himself saw nothing, Vanitas shielded his eyes, backpedalling as if burned. That didn’t stop the dark boy from aiming his keyblade, from letting loose a shotlock. But Ven saw it coming, and raised the X-Blade to defend . . .

Something else beat him to it. The object hung in front of him, letting him get a good look.

“Lost Memories?” he breathed.

The keyblade stayed for a tad longer, then abruptly zipped to his left.

It wasn’t the only one there.

Ven was speechless at the sight before him. There, seeming to sprout from his shoulder, was a wing formed of keyblades. Lost Memories was the highest, the tip, but Rainfell was there too, as was Master Keeper. Another wing lay to his right, this one made of Earthshaker, Kingdom Key and one he didn’t recognize.

“Who are you?” he whispered to it. Obediently, the strange, flowery keyblade drifted into his open palms. In his mind, an image flashed, one of a red-haired girl with blue eyes and a beautiful smile.

“Kairi,” he whispered. Even as she was held prisoner by Vanitas, she, too, had heard his call. And like the rest of his allies, somehow she had answered.

He let her keyblade, Destiny’s Embrace, return to its original position. Hovering above the ground with his precious wings, the X-Blade in his hands, light haloing him, and clouds as his stage, he looked nothing short of an angel.

Vanitas roared. He gathered up some of the wreckage of Notre Dame, and shot it at Ven while simultaneously lashing out with a purple whip. The whip preceded the rubble, unfurling, sizzling.

And Lost Memories detached itself from his wings, propping itself in front of Ven vertically, so that the whip wrapped around it. With one gesture, Ven sent them both sideways, removing the whip from play and opening the way for the flying boulders . . . But Earthshaker and Master Keeper shot forwards, impaling the boulders in their centers, driving them down to the ground and opening the way for Ven as he dove. The remaining keyblades broke out of their wing-form and instead circled him like a moth would a flame.

Vanitas blocked and that should have been that, but Rainfell fell on top of the locked X-Blades, adding its power to Ven’s. Vanitas held strong for an instant, then caved as he finally connected the dots, connected Rainfell to its owner. Leaving his X-Blade and Rainfell to keep Vanitas’s weapon down, Ven scooped up Destiny’s Embrace, turning in a half-circle as he drove the keyblade into Vanitas’s midsection. Then, he switched, taking up Rainfell and its speciality of magic, casting a spell and blasting Vanitas with all the raw force of a cannon.

He threw Kingdom Key after Vanitas. That, the dark boy stopped, catching the shaft in his hand, only to hiss as the keyblade burned it. Ven paid that little mind, the bulk of his attention on the three keyblades that had defended him, keyblades that had now drifted back. Earthshaker still had some rubble attached to its head so Ven dutifully plucked it off.

He raised the X-Blade.

He let loose his shotlock.

His beam reflected off Vanitas’s X-Blade, reflecting skywards in a huge pillar, until at least, Vanitas shifted his posture, placed his X-Blade in a position that allowed him to respond with a beam of his own. Once again, red and green met. This time, Ven had no worries. As the beams clashed, as the struggle locked them in place, his friends’ keyblades took to the sky, spinning in one great circle. The corona of keyblades kept rotating, moving, until Vanitas was in their center, then went stiff, pointing inward. At the same time, the tips all dipped, and the keyblades plummeted.

They all smashed into Vanitas at once, wounding him, distracting him, and Ven’s green beam hurtled forwards -

A geyser of dust rose into the sky, shrouding Vanitas and the attacking keyblades, blotting out the view of the battered Notre Dame behind him. A shockwave went through the area though Ven was unmoved. Still, the spikes of his hair went flat.

The dust cleared, and Vanitas was on the ground, eyes closed.

For the first time since he took flight, Ven touched ground again. With the X-Blade at his side and the other keyblades darting back to follow him, he walked up to Vanitas. The dark boy looked so calm, so innocent in sleep. There was no trace of what had just transpired, or all the cruelty he was capable of.

 _I gave him a chance_ , Ven recalled. _I tried. But he’s too stubborn to take it_.

As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew one thing to be true: it was too dangerous to wait for Vanitas to change his mind. To hold him prisoner would be a disaster; to try to force him to be part of their family was begging for failure. Vanitas hadn’t accepted the deal, and he never would. He would kill them all first.

And if Vanitas couldn’t be redeemed, there was only one thing to do.

Ven put one foot on either side of the other boy’s waist, and then raised the X-Blade.

* * *

They all knew Ven had won. How? Easy: the monsters were gone. The monsters had been fighting one moment; then the next moment, they’d started screeching in pain, staggering away from the keybladers. That had been the moment and with a shout, Eraqus had led them in one, final charge; a charge that had ended up more as a slaughter than an actual fight.

Terra finished off the last of the hounds, and made his way back to the group. He and his allies were battered, but standing. Alive.

“It’s done,” Sora whispered as he approached. “We won.”

“We did,” Terra said, still in awe himself. Though the place was clear now, once it had been swarmed with monsters. Yet somehow they had survived.

The nightmare was finally over.

“It’s over,” Aqua gasped. She loomed over the Bogeyman, whose corpse leaked black blood thanks to the hole her keyblade had left. Out of all of them, she had probably fought the hardest, channelling all her rage, all her grief into her keyblade.

She fell to her knees, exhausted. Terra started to run over, but Eraqus beat him to it and crouched in front of her. Over her head, Eraqus met his gaze.

Tension crackled between them. Mouth dry, licking his lips, Terra couldn’t help but run over his memories of Silent Hill, the horrors he had faced there. And while all of those ran in the background, another one took center stage: Eraqus, ordering Terra and Aqua to investigate the world Silent Hill lay upon. For how long how that memory haunted him? For how long had it plagued his mind, twisted what was once love for his father-figure into hate?

But he had no hate now. With his darkness cruising around in Ven’s body, it was awfully hard to possess hatred. And with that clearing of his mind, he could see things clearly. Eraqus had been innocent as they. Even so, even if Terra still wasn’t completely convinced Eraqus had been oblivious, Eraqus had more than proven himself. From his foray through the worlds to find Aqua, his solo venture into Silent Hill, his rescue of Ven and Sora and her, and the wild, bloody battles they had faced, both against Vanitas and his monsters, there was no doubt that Eraqus meant every word when he said he loved them.

Terra put one hand over his chest, and bowed shallowly. “Master.”

Pure wonder radiated from his Master, yet he still mumbled, “No, do not call me that.”

Terra met his gaze calmly. “Being a Keyblade Master isn’t a job. It’s a life-long duty,” he said, echoing something Master Eraqus had told him so long ago.

Recognizing his words, the Master perked up, though the bulk of his body language still spoke of sorrow. Before anything else could be said, Aqua suddenly moved. She walked a few steps away, picked up the keyblade Eraqus had dropped, and then handed it to him.

“You will always be our Master,” she said quietly.

“Aqua . . .”

“Guys, up there!” Sora shouted.

They looked up. In the deep of the fog, there was a light. It swelled, blinding them, then rapidly expanded outwards, drying the fog up in an instant. At the light’s origin, in the center of what would pass for a burning white star, floated Ven. He still wielded the X-Blade, which to Terra’s eyes, appeared quite happy with its situation. Arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed, Ven sunk back to earth and the light dissipated completely.

When Ven’s eyes opened, focused on him, Terra said, “Hey.”

Ven smiled. “Hey.”

“Vanitas,” Master Eraqus said, “is he . . .?”

“It’s done.” With that, Ven said everything and nothing at the same time. “I have some hearts I have to give back now . . . Master, if you would?”

Master Eraqus paled. “You want me to . . .”

Ven said, “You’re a Keyblade Master. You know how to unlock hearts.”

“I . . .”

Before Master Eraqus could cut himself down again, Terra said, “You are a Master.”

Eraqus looked at him. For now, perhaps only now, their positions had changed. Now, Eraqus was the uncertain student, Terra the wise mentor. With his encouragement, Eraqus pointed his keyblade at Ven, and thrust –

Two glassy orbs exited Ven’s chest, one white, one black. The black Terra again, moving into his heart. His darkness, his power, his rage returned to him, and when he looked next at Eraqus, it began to stir.

But no. Not anymore. That part of the story had ended. It was time for the resolution. He could sense the Master’s uncertainty, his breathless anticipation of Terra’s reaction. So, to reassure him, Terra smiled.

“Kairi . . .” Sora whispered as he stared at the white orb that was her heart. It hovered right above him, and when Sora held a hand out, it dipped until it was right above his palm.

Sora said, “Is it okay if I hold onto this? Just until we get back to the Mysterious Tower and I can give it back?”

“Go for it,” Terra said. “I think that’s what she’s asking.”

The peaceful moment was broken by a shout.

“Ventus? Ventus, speak to me!” Eraqus hollered.

Terra went rigid, then whipped around to look at his younger friend. Ven was face-first in the dirt.

But before anyone could panic, Ven groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He blinked owlishly, staring innocently at his Master.

“Are you alright?” Eraqus demanded.

Ven shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, I just wasn’t prepared for that. I guess merging’s a bit more trickier than I thought.”

“Merging?” Terra echoed.

“With Vanitas.”

Aqua stirred, demanding their attention. “Vanitas,” she asked, “where is he?”

“Taken care of,” Terra said shortly.

Her breath hitched. Staring at his collarbone, she said, “He’s dead?”

“Yes.”

She bowed her head. Not long after, it became apparent that she was _crying_. Immediately, Terra’s heart hardened, because Vanitas didn’t deserve her tears, he didn’t deserve _anything_ . . .

“Terra, relax,” Ven said. “I think she’s right to cry.”

“Over Vanitas?” he snapped. “After everything that bastard did to us?”

“Vanitas,” Ven said softly, “was a victim in his own way. If you want someone to blame, choose Master Xehanort.”

Terra curled his lip, but said nothing.

Ven kept speaking, “He’s part of my heart now, he’ll be able to feel what I feel . . . maybe, this way, he can finally have peace.”

They were silent for a while, until a portal opened up in the middle of them. Keyblades gleamed, only to disappear when they saw who it was.

“What’s going on?” Riku demanded.

“Riku!”

Sora tackled his best friend straight into the ground. Seeing them, even Terra had to smile.

“Come now, you two,” Eraqus said. “Let us return to Yen Sid’s tower. It is time for Kairi to wake again.”

Riku immediately stopped wrestling with Sora. “K-Kairi? You . . .”

“We found her!” Sora said. He beamed. “See, I told you we could do it!”

Riku laughed. “I’ve never been so happy to be wrong about something.”

The two boys helped each other up to their feet, then on Eraqus’s urging, summoned their keyblade gliders. The three say a quick farewell to the rest of them, then flew off into the sky, heading for the last person that needed to be saved.

“We should go, too,” Terra said.

Aqua certainly wasn’t going to argue, but Ven sucked in his lower lip, chewing on it. Sighing, Terra said, “What’s wrong?”

Ven spoke slowly. “I don’t . . . I don’t think we should go quite yet.”

“What? You couldn’t possibly want to stay any longer in this hell!”

“That’s just it!” Ven cried. “This town, it’s a hell because Vanitas made it that way, because he let the darkness take control. But Silent Hill, I don’t think it was always like this. And I’m God now, aren’t I? Maybe . . . I think . . . I think I can set things right. Fix it.”

Dubiously, Terra said, “You really think so.”

Ven nodded. “I do.”

Terra sighed. “Fine,” he said. He turned to Aqua, “You okay with this?”

“I . . . yes.” That’s what she said, but if the colour of her face was anything to go by, she really wasn’t.

Terra sighed. “Let’s go back to the castle then. You’ll feel better when we’re home.”

“Okay,” she said.

Terra walked off, guiding Aqua back home. He left Ven alone in the snow, alone amongst the wretched buildings in the setting sun. With a cloud of hot air rising from his mouth, Ven looked around at the town, at the town that had caused so much misery for so many.

And once he was sure Terra was gone, he allowed his lips to curl into a smirk.


	54. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit:2017
> 
> Hey everyone! Before you read this chapter, I just wanted to make you aware of something. This story was originally meant as a prequel to a story I was planning to write but never did, which is why this chapter ends as it does. At this point in time however, the chance of me returning to actually write that sequel is virtually nonexistent.
> 
> On that note, I would recommend that you consider this chapter and the last little bit of the previous chapter non-canon. Consider the official ending of the story where Ven says he thinks he can fix Silent Hill.

**Two Years Later . . .**

It was a miserable, gloomy excuse of a day. Rain poured down with all the volume and speed of a waterfall, creating a fine mist that floated above the ground, one that blended in with the town’s natural fog. For once, Silent Hill was not covered in snow, but a thick layer of mud. Nearly black in colour, it oozed like blood, doing its best to stretch across every inch of land.

Lightning flashed. The roofs and edges of buildings were illuminated, giving them a distorted appearance. Their shadows lurked on the roads below, each stretching out like the hands of ghosts. For the most part, the streets were empty, since even the monsters had sought shelter from the storm. But in one place, one overlooked by a foul-faced, stone gargoyle, there was life.

Another bolt struck, this one brighter than the rest. In the middle of the road, just beyond the reach of a streetlight’s halo, were two figures. One stood tall among the onslaught of rain, clothes clinging to his body and his hair matted. His yellow eyes shone ominously, producing their own light to see by. He had a cold face, a mask carefully perfected to hide all emotion. Like a sniper stalking his victim, he watched the other man carefully, watching for the tiniest of movements.

The other man, one on his hands and knees, was clearly in worse shape. Where once his hair had been tied in a ponytail, it had fallen free and now stuck to the sides of his face. His clothes were torn, caked with dirt. It was impossible to tell their original colour.

That man moaned. Weakly, his fingers reached for his weapon: a white keyblade. But the standing figure easily strode forwards, passing into the streetlamp’s range, and hooked the white keyblade with its own so he could toss it away. As the rain continued to hammer down, the standing figure remained there. With his unmoving form and the light shining on him from above, he looked like a mockery of an avenging angel.

The man on the ground choked. His breathing was riddled with coughs, not solely from emotion, but sickness and exhaustion. It took him a few attempts before he could finally speak, but when he did, it was so raspy one had to devote their full attention to understand.

“Please . . . please, let me help you . . . This isn’t you. Please, just let me . . .”

The standing man cut him off. “This _is_ me, Eraqus. This is who I am now.”

“No . . . I refuse . . . you can’t be . . .”

“I am.” The standing man kicked Eraqus’s arms from underneath him, sending him face first into a puddle. Saying nothing else, no hint of remorse on his face, the standing man turned and walked away.

“No!” Eraqus tried desperately to crawl after him. “No, I will free you. I will save you, Terra. All of you.”

Coldly, Terra said, “There’s no one to save.”

“No. No, no, no . . .!”

Eraqus wailed. He brought his knees in close, sobbing into his arms. Terra couldn’t see his face, but he knew his Master was crying like a baby; he’d seen it happen enough times. Terra’s insides twisted with the familiar, painful sting of guilt. Yet he shouldered on, swallowing the emotion down before it could reach his face and marched off. Once out of Eraqus’s sight, once his Master was left a crying wreck, Terra portalled to the church.

Water dripped onto the floor. He shook his head, spraying drops everywhere. Great. He just _loved_ being wet. Would it kill Ven to allow a bit of sunshine?

As if hearing him, Ven turned his head slightly, registering Terra’s appearance. The younger boy was in the center of the building, hovering above the altar. With no more than a flick of his wrist, he conjured up a power wind spell that soon had Terra dry. Relieved, the brunet rolled his shoulders, savouring the feel of crisp clothes against skin.

“I think he’s on the verge of cracking,” Terra said. “He certainly won’t last much longer.”

“I agree.” Ven’s tone was no longer that of the energetic child he had once been. Over the months, it had matured into something else, now more like Xemnas’ speech than anything. “The next time you visit him, that should do it.”

Terra had to take a moment to calm his racing heart. “You think so?”

“He is so close, so very, very close to seeing the light,” Ven said, staring at his open hand. He closed it, and turned to Terra with a smile. “It’ll be nice to have our Master back. Maybe we can finally take the Exam.”

Terra whispered, “Yeah.”

He opened another portal, but before he could step inside, Ven spoke again. “We’ve left it for too long, Terra,” he said. “We never should have let her get this far.”

 _Breathe . . ._ His fist clenched as Ven brought up that old topic. “What do you suggest?”

“Take care of the problem,” Ven said simply.

Normally, that would have been enough. Normally, Terra would have dashed off to do his best friend’s bidding. This time, however, he hesitated. There was a sour taste on his tongue, enough to make him gag.

“Ven, are you sure about this? She’s . . .”

“It needs to happen,” Ven said firmly. “She doesn’t understand. Something needs to be done.”

“I know,” he said. He tugged at his glove. When the fabric peeled off his skin, he saw blood.

By now, even Aqua would have noticed his reluctance. Ven frowned, landing on his tiptoes. “Terra, you’re on our side, aren’t you?”

The answer fell from him. “Of course.”

Ven didn’t smile. He walked up to Terra with his signature puppy-dog eyes. “I thought you were our friend.”

“I am!” Terra snapped. “It’s just . . .”

He trailed off. His chin lifted as he sighed. Of course he was Ven and Aqua’s friend! It was just . . . this was no ordinary assassination Ven wanted him to carry out. He knew the target, liked her. Once upon a time, he had been her friend, too.

“You’d protect us, right?” Ven laid his hand on Terra’s cheek. “You’d do anything to keep me and Aqua from getting hurt.”

Looking into Ven’s eyes, it was like watching the watch of a hypnotist. The longer he stared, the more relaxed he felt. His friends were everything to him. To hold them, to see them, to cherish them . . . it was what he lived for. If something happened to them, Terra knew it would only be a couple of days – maybe hours – before he threw himself off a cliff.

He grabbed Ven’s hand tight. “Of course.”

Ven smiled, nodding. He grabbed hold of Terra’s shirt, pulling himself up so that they could be close enough to hear each other’s whispers. “She’s dangerous, Terra. She’s _pure,_ and she knows how to use that power. The town can’t touch her or anyone close to her, and she’s aligned herself with Yen Sid. If she helped to lead an attack on our home, I wouldn’t be able to stop her. You or I could get hurt, or _Aqua_.”

“Aqua . . .” Terra clenched his jaw, and pulled out his Wayfinder, studying it.

Ven moved the Wayfinder away so that Terra was staring at him again. “Terra, Cinderella has to go.”

He stared at Ven for a long moment. “This is how it has to be.”

Ven nodded.

“Alright then.” Terra rubbed the back of his neck. “But after this I’m retiring for the day.”

“Of course,” Ven said sweetly. He hopped back onto the altar. “You shouldn’t work so hard, Terra. You always seem so exhausted.”

Terra said nothing. He didn’t have the heart to tell Ven that it wasn’t the physical work that tired him.

He walked into his new portal, seeking his target. Long, long ago, Ven had passed on a tad of his power to Terra: Silent Hill’s ability to find who it wanted. Though Terra hadn’t seen Cinderella in a long time, he would have no trouble finding her. And then he would do what was needed.

He closed his eyes.

Nowadays, Ven saw enemies everywhere.

* * *

Another check on the list. As Ven sensed Cinderella’s heart flicker out, he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, that obstacle taken care of. It should have been done a long, long time ago, when they had gone after most of the other Princesses of Heart; however, to his frustration, Terra had argued for Cinderella’s safety. He understood why. During their adventure in the Castle of Dreams, Terra had grown quite fond of the girl. He’d had a hard time letting go of their friendship, enough to give Ven a few headaches. But at least Terra had now seen the light. At least now he had accepted Ven’s wisdom.

That left one Princess left: Kairi. This would be a tricky one; he didn’t want to put Sora and Riku through any more hardship, but the two boys just wouldn’t stay down! They, with Kairi leading the charge, were prominent supporters of King Mickey’s crusade against justice. Something had to be done.

His brow furrowed. He hated thinking about that, that his former friends had so viciously betrayed him. They just didn’t _understand_. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t witnessed Master Xehanort’s cruelty, or had their heart split in two. As much as they thought otherwise, they had no idea of how drastically it had destroyed Vanitas, how twisted and crazy it had made the boy. What they had experienced in Silent Hill, it was just the tip of the iceberg.

They didn’t understand, nor did Ven know how to make them.

Surely, if they did understand, they’d be on his side.

Who wouldn’t be?

Ven sighed. Vanitas, back when he had ruled Silent Hill alone, had the right idea, but just hadn’t followed through enough. Vanitas had gone after fiends, people who had done wrong. Ven did too, only with a twist. Instead of waiting for a crime to be committed as Vanitas did, Ven simply stepped in _before_ one could be done.

It was brilliant. Once he had gotten full access to Vanitas’ memories, once they had become one, Ven had sworn that he would never allow anything like his life to happen again. He swore to stop evil in its tracks, to cut down the Xehanorts of the world before they could pollute it. So, he shuffled through all the hearts in the universe, searched with ones with the potential for evil, and brought them to Silent Hill. Some were good enough to be redeemed.

They were a minority.

Deep inside him, something stirred. The faint flavours of confusion and fear accompanied it.

He opened his eyes. Aqua had woken.

Time for damage control.

* * *

“ _Please, you have to run. You have to get out of there! Please . . ._ ”

Confused, Aqua mused over the words in her dreams. She had been looking into a mirror, and her reflection had smacked the glass with her fists, pleading. About what? She didn’t really get it. Her reflection wanted her to leave, but leave what? Had she meant the–

\--- **_y_** _o **u a** r **e n** o **t t** o **r** u **n a** w **a** y **. Y** o **u c** a **n** n **o** t **l** e **a** v **e t** h **e c** a **s** t **l** e **w** i **t** h **o** u **t o** u **r p** e **r** m **i** s **s** i **on---**_

She hummed, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. She only stopped when her door open and Ven walked in. He stepped over a toy train that lay on its side, then plopped down on the bed next to her.

“Hey,” he said. “Sweet dreams?”

She frowned, looking off into the distance. “It was a weird one. But I don’t think you need to hear. . .”

\--- **_n_** _o **s** e **c** r **e** t **s** \---_

“I was talking to myself,” she said, “in a mirror.”

“What did the other you say?” he asked.

“I –“

\--- **_t_** _e **l** l **t** h **e** **t** r **u** t **h** \---_

“She told me to run. To get out of . . . somewhere. I’m not sure what she was talking about.”

Ven nodded, looking troubled. Concerned, she tugged on his shirt. He smiled easily at her, then ordered, “Forget that dream.”

She froze. Something invisible reached deep into her mind, took hold of something, then tore it out. A big black hole was left in the spot, making her squirm.

Casually, Ven asked, “Did you dream today?”

She opened her mouth.

\--- **_f_** _o **r** g **e** t **t** h **a** t **d** r **e** a **m** \---_

“No,” she said.

“Good

He stayed with her that night, and she did what she had to do to make him happy. Because when her friends were happy, she was, too. Terra never showed up, because Ven said he was on a late mission. She fretted over him, but it was Terra, the strongest man she knew. He would be okay.

The next morning, she asked Ven, “Can I go outside today?”

“No,” he said. “It’s not safe yet.”

“Oh.” She looked away. “When will it be safe?”

“Who knows?” Ven said. “Could be a while.”

“It’s been so long since I was outside,” she whispered. She burrowed deeper into her bed.

“I know,” he said. “But we don’t want you to get hurt. Outside is dangerous.”

“But . . .”

\--- ** _d_** _o **n’** t **a** r **g** u **e w** i **t** h **m** e ---_

She sighed and snuggled into her blankets.

Later, he left her to go back to his job, and she was alone. She ate. She read a book from the library. She played with her dolls. She waited for Ven and Terra to come back.

Terra showed up next. He smelt of shampoo . Underneath his nails, there was a trace of something red. She didn’t ask.

He didn’t look very happy today. She gave him her brightest smile, trying to coax a reaction. But Terra didn’t smile back. He sat down on the bed next to her, head in his hands.

“Terra?” She was very worried now. Terra was upset, and that meant she was, too.

“Aqua . . .” He looked at her. His eyes seemed to be glistening.

He hugged her very suddenly, and she was happy to play along. She hugged him back, patting his back.

Into her ear, he whispered, “Do you . . . do you ever look back and wish we did things differently?”

She stayed quiet for a second, trying to figure out –

\--- **_y_** _o **u a** r **e h** a **p** p **y. Y** o **u A** R **E ---**_

**_\---_ ** _**YOU CAN LIE TO TERRA** \---_

_“_ No,” she said. “Why would I?” Silly Terra. Why would he think she was unhappy? She was here, safe, with her friends.

That’s all she needed. Her friends. She _loved_ them.

She loved Terra and Ven.


End file.
